


Roles

by dante0220



Series: Divides Crossed [7]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Ancestors, Angst, Dreamscapes, F/M, Forgiveness, Friendship/Love, Gen, Meeting the Parents, Prejudice, Supernatural - Freeform, Vendettas, cutting ties
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-01
Updated: 2018-04-02
Packaged: 2019-03-25 16:29:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 23
Words: 38,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13838655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dante0220/pseuds/dante0220
Summary: At Samhain, Camelot hosts a festival for the Five Kingdoms.  At that point, Merlin and Mithian make things (sort of) official.  How will Rodor like Merlin?  Who will shake up the festival?  What kind of old grudges surface?  Which friends work together?  Which ones don't?  Please read and review!





	1. Nimue coaches Morgana

**Author's Note:**

> This is the seventh installment of the “Divides Crossed” series. Merlin and his cohorts (this version at least) belong to the BBC and Scyfy. Britomart is from Edmund Spenser’s _Faerie Queene_. Ywain, and _Malodius_ are from Chretien's Yvain Knight of the Lion. Blancheflor is from Chretien's _Perceval: Knight of the Grail_

Chapter 1 [Third Week of October]

Even if summer lingered unseasonably long that year, chill winds billowed across the landscape. Pigs rooted through the yellowing grass seeking out the last acorns. Peasants pursued them before Jack Frost’s arrival shortly after. Foliage’s fire burned with bright crimsons, yellows and oranges to the eye above. The last of the crops came in from the fields.

Change loomed on the horizon. Still the seasons’ passage was not as drastic as the changing of the guard occurring across Britannia. Political norms shifted. Revolution’s bloody scythe had claimed its own harvest during the previous year. Rulers had fallen on the battlefield; their crowns passing to the victors with the other spoils. New leaders innovated with mixed success. Different policies provoked certain reactions for better or worse with subjects and fellow rulers alike.

And for one ruler in particular, reaction proved decided mixed to say the least….

 

****

 

[Tintagel—Grand Hall]  
[A/N: Yes we see our resident bad girl in her new position.]

Within the ornately decorated chamber, a single figure gazed out the window. Her eyes swept across the color-splashed leaves below and beyond the walls. Her ears perked to a few passing birds hustling toward their winter refuge leagues to the south. Despite the fine blue robes and matching gown, the person in question felt like a pauper. Longing looked through dark eyes toward a clenched hand. Fingers seeking some semblance of feeling…some bit of a spark….

…a spark that wouldn’t come….

Morgana brooded. She missed her magic. Even the preceding half year hadn’t lessened the hollow feeling within her over its loss. Aggravation pounded away at her temples. Her ministers’ words still stung in her ears. Policy burdened her soul. Persecution against her own kind and the old religion still burned at her.

Magic or not, she still was one of them.

_These ignorant brutes have no idea of what they’re doing! Gorlois supported Avalon and magic in this land. Even if Uther scorned it, he never would officially sanction such persecution._ She sipped on some red wine from a golden goblet. “How I wish Uther had never seized power.”

“The Crown weighs heavily upon you, does it?”

Morgana’s mouth curled into a scowl. She glanced at Nimue who watched her in turn. “You could have let us know you were coming, Sister. I’d have given you a proper reception.”

Nimue shrugged. “And what might that have been, Queen Morgana? A dungeon? Perhaps a charm or some such thing?” She strutted around the chamber. Her eyes surveyed every nook and cranny for anything out of the ordinary. “We do know Uther provided enough of an example for such betrayals.”

Impatience burned in the new royal’s eyes. “And yet I attempted to take the throne twice to overturn such measures, Nimue. I believe my record in that regard speaks for itself.”

“On that we agree. How much blood did you spill there? How many of our kind did your Southron lackeys trample over while you fixated on Camelot’s throne?” Nimue folded her arms across her chest. “The goddess desires harmony.”

Morgana sipped on her goblet. “Indeed. It is interesting how this all worked out. Arthur gets our father’s throne back. My real father, Gorlois’, throne suddenly becomes available for me. I don’t have my magic. Meantime Emrys is back to playing servant for my brother and betraying our kind!” She snickered.

“Not for much longer, Sister. Arthur has damaged that bond. Perhaps not tomorrow or next month but a change is coming. Still the die is cast,” Nimue disagreed. A wry cough escaped her lips.

Morgana rolled her eyes. “Oh really? I know Arthur is a fool, Nimue. Still I never thought he could drive his loyal lapdog away. What did he do? I…” She giggled almost like a schoolgirl plucking a ripe fruit from Gossip’s tree for public consumption. “Arthur embarrassed him. Didn’t he?” Glee and Satisfaction glowed in her eyes. A dark grin spread across her face.

“He humiliated Emrys in front of all of Britannia. I must admit that it was enjoyable to see Merlin having his nose rubbed in the mess. Gaius gave a few comforting words after the fact but did little else.” Nimue met her hostess’ eyes with her own glance. 

“He does abuse Merlin. I suppose his pride hurt over wearing the gown?” Morgana shook her head. “Aye I saw it. Just tell me that something bigger is happening.”

“The goddess always stands ready in such regards. You know that as well as I,” Nimue replied. “Arthur rubbed his face in the dirt. This time it’s different. It seems that the other rulers didn’t appreciate the display. Several negotiations were broken off. Percival told him to apologize.”

“Percival did?” Morgana coughed. “Loyal Percival? Really?” She gulped another draught of wine to wash that point down. “He is his own man now. Isn’t he?” She rubbed her hands together. “And let me guess…Mithian of Nemeth was there to make Emrys feel better. Wasn’t she?”

“She was. Gawain and the red haired wench helped in that way. It was satisfying to watch Gawain scold Arthur in front of the entire hall. Thanks to Guinevere, he suffered no reprisal,” Nimue reported.

“Will wonders never cease? Even that prat does the right thing for a change?” Morgana coughed. “Merlin and Mithian desire each other. Arthur’s knights berate him publicly. Gwen knocks his authority out from underneath him. Gaius steps aside and allows the show to happen. Oh this is too rich a treat…almost so for my taste!”

“Things are in motion. Remember though, Morgana, you are still being watched. Avalon appreciates your work as Tintagel’s Queen thus far. You are making strides in the right direction. Continue on that course. There is so much more to do here,” Nimue reminded her. “When you go to Camelot, you are to do nothing to provoke these things.”

“Why should I? My dear brother bungles his own affairs quite well. Let Camelot do as it will. I have need of that treaty. Besides….” Morgana patted the throne’s arm rest. “…this is Gorlois’ legacy. He was my real father perhaps not by birth but by heart and love. I owe him. Consequently I will make this kingdom blossom once more.”

“A most responsible outlook indeed. Still you should remember that the goddess put you here instead of the stake. Helios, after all, did not have such a privilege.” Nimue shook her head. “Arthur had him hanged, drawn and quartered. Even I didn’t think he had that in him.”

Lament weighed down on Morgana’s shoulders. Her frown only grew. “He should have been allowed to live. I would have….”

Nimue arched an eyebrow. “Have a care, Morgana. One should choose the King carefully. Helios would have manipulated you. He’d get an heir then he’d eliminate you soon after in some convenient accident. It’s for the best. Trust in that.”

“Yes. Meantime though Mithian desires Merlin for herself? How is that? Explain how that is, Sister?” Morgana pressed.

“There is a reason and a purpose. Besides you set that in motion through your own machinations. Enjoy it, Morgana. Besides the goddess smiles upon Mithian of Nemeth it seems,” Nimue reminded her. “Remember no schemes. Just do what you said earlier. You need to soothe a great many ruffled feathers in your own right. Good luck.” With that, she vanished in a puff of mist.

Morgana shook her head. _Good luck she says. That’s fine for her. I still need to deal with the other monarchs. I’ll be fortunate if Arthur doesn’t just burn me at the stake out of spite. I’ll need to make sure the royal guard is ready for anything. Arthur would be that stupid to try something._ She glanced toward the throne. _I will make this land prosper. You’ll see, Gorlois. Helios, I’m sorry you aren’t here._ With that, she left the chamber.

Duty could be such a burden…..


	2. Layers of the Story

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompted by Balinor's armor, Mithian ponders the depth of Nemeth's relationship with Camelot.

Chapter 2 [Nemeth]

Throughout the land, the people prepared for Winter’s impending arrival. The wheat, oats and barley sat in the village’s storehouse for later baking bread or making ale. Straw and mud reinforced peasant hovels for the coming chill. Free ranging pigs and stationary livestock hung between living through the winter and being butchered. 

In addition, as Samhain approached, their mind turned to the festival. They knew well the stories surrounding the thinning of the veil between worlds. Consequently they laid out what protective measures that could be managed. Despite Apprehension’s wary eye toward evil, Reverence prompted a celebration of those loved ones who’d passed on.

On all levels, the year transitioned from old to new. The past jousted with present and future. Tidal forces pushed at Britannia over all.

That is if the isle could survive…..

 

****

 

[Whitgate—Heroes’ Hall]

Mithian strode through the rounded granite door with a heavy heart and mind. The latest council meeting weighed down upon her. Her shoulders sagged. Her head throbbed. 

The royal council remained divided over whether to pursue treaties. Trust on all fronts remained a contentious issue at best. With the changes in monarchs, the agreements with Mercia and the Amazons passed through almost in pro forma fashion. Still those gray beards from Uther’s era continued to distrust Avalon and the Old Religion despite Rodor’s and her respective efforts to convince them otherwise. Arthur’s missteps in certain public arenas prompted overtures for further discussion and demands for more concessions from Camelot.

_Arthur surrendered any claim to Gedref. How can they still demand more?_ She snorted. _Well beyond the one paramount demand. I can imagine how that will shake Arthur up._ She sighed. Her eye surveyed the mini-museum of sorts. She could see suits of armor, weapons and other artifacts laid out with care. Carefully woven tapestries stretched across the western and southern walls. 

Past feats from battlefields and artistic grace…..

She’d memorized every detail of course. After her mother’s and older brother’s respective deaths, she’d retreated into her studies if she wasn’t hunting. Pride warmed her heart over the kingdom’s growth and development. She considered her grandfather’s chain mail. Then Prince Kay’s plate and chain mail beckoned. The western tapestry sang of Harmony’s calm and sylvan beauty. Queen Taene’s gifted hands had blended colors and stories into the fabric. She smiled as she did every year just prior to Samhain. She praised her family in her mind. While she also paid attention to the other heroic dead whose sacrifice insured Nemeth’s survival, family held a special place.

Unlike other years though, a special set of armor beckoned to her from its obscure corner. It resembled its counterparts in design. The chain mail betrayed dents and gaps from heavy use in battle. A sword with several nicks in the blade gleamed in the torchlight. An aged bow accompanied it; the faded wood and slack string betraying its age. The emerald sur coat’s cloth edges seemed a little frayed. On its upper left side, a patch held a dark dragon rampant perched on some imaginary roost. It seemed ready to fly into battle as needed. 

She rubbed her chin. She recalled how many of her father’s guests seemed to avoid this display. Suspicion and Scorn shoved further unwarranted abuse onto the honorable outfit. Whispers hung like a stagnant mist over the chamber. Prejudice ushered any potential fans and admirers aside. She coughed and shook her head.

“I see you found it.”

She turned to find Rodor watching her. Immediately she offered the royal nod for his benefit. “Father, forgive me. I didn’t hear you approach.”

“Given how taken you are with the armor, I can see why.” He considered the display. “Sir Balinor did command attention in his time. He earned every bit of that respect. It is a pity.”

“You mean how neglected it is? Father, certainly we can take it out of here.” Her eyes gleamed. “At last Sir Balinor’s place can be taken up anew.” Pride and _Amor_ sparkled like _Sol_ on a gently running brook on a summer’s day. 

“Why? So that it would be forgotten? That, my Daughter, is what Lord Aethelwald and the others want. Despite his service to our realm, Sir Balinor was not a popular figure here at court. It wasn’t that he didn’t try to be. He seemed to sense the courtiers’ contempt for who and what he was even as they benefited from what he did.” Lament pushed a mournful breath from his lungs. 

Recalling the other counselors’ attitudes toward her opinions in their meetings, she ground her teeth. “It’s no wonder then that he fled. He knew they’d betray him to Uther. Instead of their thanks, they’d allow Camelot to burn him as they did the Lady of Shallott.” She wiped a stray tear from her eye.

Knowing her as he did, the King embraced her sheltering her in the strong harbor of his arms. “Uther did his damage. Arthur continues it because that’s what he knows. Many of our own people know only that as well.”

“Merlin hides his true identity because of it, Sire. He’s afraid. So was Lady Hunith. That’s why she scolds him to keep his secret.” She trembled. “Please tell me that there can be another way.”

“Of course there is. Merlin himself has presented it to us. Valor and Achievements open doors to which no other key will budge. From what you and the others have said, he has earned the right to wear a suit of armor like this one. If I have my way, he will have the opportunity to do so. Still, Mithian, I remind you of our need to tread lightly. The weight of the past generation press heavily upon us not to be so easily moved aside. Patience is a virtue,” he both assured and advised.

She frowned. “I know.” In her mind’s eye, _Memoria_ reminded her of Merlin’s leading Aithusa and Kilgarrah at Ealdor. He already assumes his father’s mantle and does so with his usual aplomb. Just don’t let him know it. One cabbage head in Camelot is quite enough for everyone. She rolled her eyes hoping Merlin didn’t hear that last remark.

Strangely no emotional quirk came through the Link. In fact, Depression sullied the feeling therein.

_Don’t tell me Arthur’s STILL punishing him? I mean *really*?_ She fought down the urge to roll her eyes and frown. Yes she had to admit that Merlin had a bit too much fun at Arthur’s expense with the nun’s outfit. Still it was for tactical reasons. It did keep the group alive until Ninane could get them to Ealdor. _It would’ve kept Arthur safe if he hadn’t chased Gwen into Morgana’s clutches._

And how did Arthur pay Merlin back? He cajoled, humiliated and demoted his most loyal servant after the latter saved his life.

_This has to stop. I have to speak to Gwen about this,_ she told herself.

“Mithian?” Rodor tapped her on the arm.

“Hmm? Oh, Father! Pardon me. My mind wandered briefly,” she apologized.

He smiled knowing she was inclined to such moments. “Mithian, I was just going to say that these things take time. It can happen. Faith and Love can topple even the mightiest of mountains. You yourself have shown so, I believe,” he reiterated adding an almost playful barb for her benefit.

She shook her head. “I wish I could just go in there and sweep Merlin off of his feet.”

He chuckled. “I believe it’s the man that usually does the sweeping.”

She arched an eyebrow. “Practicality knows no gender bounds. In this case, I’m the royal. He’s stuck as the servant. As you said, this is a new age.” She kissed his cheek. “Britomart should be almost packed. The progress leaves at first light.”

He nodded. “As it should. You however will dine with me and get plenty of rest, Mithian. I know you’d skip both to be on the road that much sooner. Did you visit the crypt?”

“I did. I gave my regards to our family. I let Mother and Kay know we miss them. I told Grandfather that I go to restore his friend’s noble line to our court. I promised him I would not fail in that regard. Honor will guide my resolve, Father,” she informed him.

“I would expect no less. Honor is an important guide. Still she must be balanced by Diplomacy as well,” he reminded her.

“Of course. We have to live with the others as we do our own subjects. Shall we dine then?” she supposed.

“We shall indeed.” With that he led her from the chamber and toward the Great Hall.

Basics needs should be met after all before one’s quest…..


	3. Gawain Sulks in the Rising Sun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gawain broods about his (and Camelot's) current funk. Merlin comes to pull him out of it....

Chapter 3 [Camelot—Hours Later]

The stars twinkled in their dark backdrop above. Icy breezes swayed torch fires in various directions and even slightly beat them down a bit. Shadows danced across the granite alongside and underfoot. Sentry knights watched the terrain outside of the walls. They flanked the citadel’s door as well.

Pity not all knights were as responsible on that evening….

 

****

 

[Rising Sun Tavern]

Gawain sat at the bar trying to shut out the world around himself. His mouth absently took a frothy draught from the pint in his hand. Rather than carouse with the other revelers, his eyes focused on the worn grain of the hard surface. His fingers tapped a terse Morse code across that aged wood. His ears registered none of the rather boisterous affair all around. Sorrow weighed more so across his consciousness than normal. His usual poker face failed to hold it in on that particular night. Worse still, he could care less. He still rode patrol and maintained watch when needed. He endured Arthur and Gwen’s assemblies.

Everything had frankly soured. More than that….it flat out sucked bollocks……

He coughed at that particular insight. His hand mechanically raised the aforementioned pint to his mouth for another draught to wash it down with. Disdain pushed out a massive belch for everyone and nobody in particular to hear. He’d endured far too much change for his liking. Percival endured his own court politics in Mercia. Leon stifled the knights with new regulations supposedly from Arthur. (More than likely though, the mood killers came from the First Knight’s own stiff-arsed ego than anything else.) And that wasn’t counting how their high and mighty King treated Merlin. His eyes narrowed almost to slits at that point. 

Arthur had frankly made it his mission to make Merlin miserable. Granted some payback was in order for the whole nun deal. Still the response had overreached any reasonable bounds. He’d embarrassed his servant at the banquet. He’d demoted Merlin to the stables and every menial task known it seemed. He never addressed Merlin directly choosing instead to send his wishes through that brown nosing moron, George, or Gwen. Occasionally he’d rouse Merlin from sleep shortly after midnight for some stupid task that could’ve waited until midday.

_Wish I could just break Merlin out of here. We’d ride off and find some adventure. We could forget. Maybe he could poof us some place._ Gawain shook his head. _If Arthur didn’t hunt us down, Mith would…or worse she’d send Brit after us._ His heart skipped a beat eliciting a sour frown. _She is going to be the death of me. Nag. Nag. Nag. At least she won’t come around usually._ He rolled his eyes at the thought of her last trip there. _Yeah she did get Merlin a picnic. Still did she have to rat on me to Gwen about the bloody dice?_ He gulped a big portion of the glass. _Maybe I can get Merlin to Nemeth before heading north. Then Merlin would be a prince rather than the ‘crap boy’_. He grimaced at the derogatory name he’d overheard around the court….

…heard that is before his fist forced an adjustment in the speaker’s mindset….

“You want another, Sir Gawain?” the bartender, a tall swarthy-complexioned man, inquired.

“Yeah why not? Helps with stuff.” Gawain conceded a shrug. He dug into his pocket. With a curt motion, he flipped a shilling coin at him. “That should do you.”

The bartender nodded and stuck it in his breeches’ pocket. Then he produced a dark bottle from behind the counter and refilled the knight’s pint. “That should be good for what ails you.”

“Thanks, Mate.” Gawain raised the tankard. By now, an almost looking grin had reappeared on his face. “Cheers.” He set the pint down on the bar. “Almost makes the day better.” 

The bartender looked off to his right. “Think you’re being summoned.” He motioned in that direction.

Gawain rolled his eyes. “Bloody hell! Who’d ruin…a perfectly good time? I….” He turned to find Merlin watching him. “Merlin! Just the guy I wanted to see!”

Merlin allowed a small smile to spread across his face. Given his friend’s usual exploits in that establishment, he expected to find a far greater mess. Relief washed through him relaxing him. “Well here I am. I wish we could drink away our troubles. Got to get back.”

“Aww….you don’t mean that! What have you got…’sides the stables to muck? Stupid Princess makes you do that,” Gawain groused. He guzzled down a few gulps from the new drink. “Arthur this! Arthur that! Arthur…Arthur…Arthur….”

Merlin bit back a response. Due to the King’s recent bile toward him, he could well understand Gawain’s issues. Frustration boiled up inside of his heart. Still he remembered how proud his Princess was about his resolve…that he could be the bigger man. “Gawain, not here. If you want to talk, we can go to Gaius’ chamber.”

“Yeah well ol’ Arthur might have a spy there too. Aw hell!” Gawain stood. He finished the drink and set the glass down on the bar with a resounding thud. “Gwen sent ya, didn’t she?”

Merlin shrugged. “At least she got me out of silver polishing duty.” 

Gawain gagged overly loud. “I’d throw that Prat out the window first. Arthur calls you an idiot? Really?”

Seeing several sets of eyes turning toward them, Merlin tugged with a bit more urgency on Gawain’s arm. He had no wish to give Arthur any more grist to grind on any front. “Come on, Gawain. People are listening.”

“So? Let ‘em.” 

Merlin considered giving his friend a magically-enhanced aide. Then he thought twice about it considering the other’s buzzed mental outlook at the moment. “Gwen’s worried. Arthur might throw both of us in the stocks. Please. Let’s go.”

Gawain stiffened. Rebellion reared in his head wanting to spit in the Establishment (that being Arthur’s) face at that particular moment. “Yeah well…I still might dig in. Ain’t nothing you can say that’ll make me move.”

“I could get Princess Mithian to bring a reason,” Merlin insinuated/threatened. “And I know how certain maids feel about certain knights being in taverns.”

“Last thing I need is that one lecturing me again. All right. Fine.” Gawain hustled out the door nearly pulling Merlin with him in tow.

While he didn’t care to be yanked along in that way, Merlin went with the flow. After all, he did get his friend to come willingly. That in the end counted for something…..


	4. Kilgarrah and Gwen's Musings to Merlin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kilgarrah and Gwen give Merlin their own separate (yet insightful) points on his relationship with Mithian. Gwen uncorks her "special assignment" for Merlin during the Samhain festival.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is for you all. I know at least two of you who will really enjoy it. Let me know what you think! :)

Chapter 4 [Physician’s Chamber—A Half Turn of the Hourglass Later]

Merlin studied a borrowed homeopathic text at Gaius’ table. He marveled at the depth of Avalon’s knowledge. His eyes drank in the names of diseases he’d never encountered in even the most erudite of secular medical works. He took in various cures and remedies spanning straight herbal sources, others employing a combination of herbs and magic. He bemoaned Ignorance’s and Prejudice’s respective blocks against this knowledge’s helpfulness. _What we could do together. Why can’t Arthur and the others understand?_ He shook his head. A frown curled his mouth like a sour prune. He glanced toward the empty bed in the corner.

Gaius had spent more time on the road than normal lately. Granted the Southrons had left a great many scars and wounds in their wake. Yes the plague epidemic had spiked upward in the western provinces. Still the elderly mentor had seemed uneasy of late. He still cared of course. Still he’d been distant of late.

Merlin sipped from his wooden cup. The water soothed his dry mouth and throat. He felt refreshed. Tension eased up on his shoulders and back ever so slightly. The energies flowing from the book and into him did that more so for him. _That’s better._

_It is your true self, Merlin. It is the part Gaius teaches you to hide,_ Kilgarrah reminded him.

Merlin shook his head. _Kilgarrah, some things are necessary. We have to survive._

_Yes we do. Such measures are so necessary that they drive allies into becoming enemies. Do they not?_ the Great Dragon chided.

Merlin recalled Morgana’s words well from their previous encounter in Avalon well. Her anger still stung at his ears. _As you might recall, I wanted to help her. Gaius and you obsessed about killing her. Don’t be so high and mighty, Kilgarrah._

_I sought to protect the Young King. Now who will protect him from himself?_ Kilgarrah deflected.

_Who will protect me from prophecy?_ Merlin stopped as soon as the question escaped his mind over the Link. For the previous decade, his singular focus had been the Prophecy. He concentrated on protecting Arthur from any and all dangers keeping his King in a bubble at times. While Loyalty and Duty still drove him, Perspective shoved him out of that particular vein. He’d begun to realize that Arthur would do what he would regardless if Merlin, Gwen or anyone advised him to or not. He’d act like a clot pole whether it was right or not. And he’d turn on anyone as he felt necessary too. _Arthur loses his knights. He’ll get others. Still they won’t be like the ones we have now._

_Change is a part of Life’s continuity, Young Warlock. You should know that. In fact, I believe you are grappling with the Princess’ proposal? It seems Destiny has bigger plans for you. You might learn from your friend, Sir Gawain, Merlin. Do not resist change. Rather, like a dandelion seed on the wind, you should ride it to the most fertile of soil. Find that patch, plant yourself and flourish. That, it seems, is a hundred miles or so to your west not where you are now,_ Kilgarrah lectured.

_I know Princess Mithian cares. I care too. Still I serve Arthur. Deeds or not, he won’t let me go. I’m not noble or special,_ Merlin disagreed.

_Not special? You are Emrys of the Druids! You are the last surviving dragon lord. You are the heir of Balinor. You are Mithian of Nemeth’s chosen one. And there is something else which will render Arthur Pendragon’s claim on you moot, Merlin. Yes you can be extremely blind to certain things. Still you are special. You listen to Arthur and Gaius far too much. I would urge you to speak with Malodius upon your next encounter for more. I am sure Princess Mithian and High Priestess Freya would add their support to that as well,_ Kilgarrah pressed on. _I leave you to consider that well. As we prepare for Samhain, consider what Balinor has left to you. Even now, he has prepared your way toward Service and Duty. It is much more than polishing trinkets and enduring abuse. So much more…._

After Kilgarrah went silent, Merlin muddled over his brother of sorts’ lecture. Much as it had in Ealdor, he could feel Destiny or perhaps some other force shoving him away from Comfort’s familiarity. Despite all of the hiding and concealment of the previous decade, Camelot was home now. The royals, knights and household were his _familia_. Instinct compelled him to think of them first.

Now though others clamored for his attention. Friends either ruled or served prominent roles in other kingdoms. The encounters with Cedric and the Southrons reminded of how foreign interests could endanger that at any point. Avalon’s and the triple goddess certainly had made their presence felt. He knew Hunith could have the privileged life she deserved rather than the day to day struggles in a peasant hovel. And then Mithian’s love and warmth registered on him through the Link. She didn’t just look at him as a means to an end or some tool. She genuinely loved him. 

And more amazingly, he loved her. Especially over the previous six months, he’d found himself looking out the front castle windows or from the top of the wall at the western road. He’d sniff her favorite wildflowers in the woods or the royal gardens. He’d sniff the scented handkerchief she’d left for him. His heart longed for her. Several times he’d sworn he was looking at another citadel flying pennants of familiar Nemeth green from its ramparts. He’d felt her presence but didn’t dare communicate for fear that others might listen in. He longed for her.

_Can it happen? Kilgarrah and the others say it’s possible. Still Arthur won’t let it happen. He relies too much on me. I…._ He heard a knock at the chamber door. He filed the thought away for another time. Then he opened to door to find Gwen standing there. “Gwen! Good evening!” He bowed quickly.

“Good evening, Merlin. Might I come in?” She glanced at him expectantly. 

“What? Of course.” He raised an eyebrow not understanding the question. Even if she was the Queen, she was his friend. He wasn’t about to deny her an audience in any event. He showed her into the chamber. Then he glanced out into the passage. “No guards?”

“I have business between you and me. Close the door please,” she informed him. When he’d done so, she frowned. “Apologies, Merlin. I’m still getting used to the new role, garb and just being where I am. I don’t mean to talk down to you.”

“Gwen, you’re the Queen. You are above me. I understand,” he assured her. While he wanted to gripe about Arthur, he held himself back. He couldn’t relax his guard that much. “Is Arthur all right?”

“There doesn’t seem to be any maladies or sickness. Physically he’s perhaps a little tired. He’s stressed though. I’ve never seen him so terse or moody to be honest. Your replacement had to go home on leave to tend to his sick mother. And this right before the Samhain festival.” She rubbed the back of her neck. “Merlin, I know you’re hoping Arthur would take you back. I’m sorry. I don’t understand why he’s being the way he is toward you.” She shook her head. Sympathy showed in her face. 

“It’s his choice, Gwen. We all do our duty. He tells us what to do,” he noted glumly.

“I’ve argued with him on your behalf, Merlin. Frankly he’s still upset about the reaction to your performance at the last gathering. The other monarchs are being slow to resume negotiations. Some want him to issue you a public apology,” she reported.

“That’ll never happen. No wonder he won’t even look at me. Maybe I can talk with Percival or the other rulers on his behalf? I know I’m just a servant but….” he offered.

“I wish that would work. Arthur’s pride is getting in the way.” She frowned before holding up a scroll. “I received this from Nemeth. It seems that King Rodor is accompanying Princess Mithian for the meeting.”

“Oh?” Anxiety flared within his heart. The butterflies started beating against the sides of his stomach again. He gulped. “Maybe Arthur might assign Grace or Penelope? They’re his best housekeepers.”

“He left those details to me. It seems that he had to lead the knights on another patrol. So I took certain liberties.” She tapped the scroll in her hand. Mischief or perhaps Satisfaction pulled her mouth into a smile. She positively beamed.

“Uh. Okay.” His fingers twitched even more by now. He knew her expression well. He could almost feel her scheming from across the chamber. “I’m afraid to ask.”

“Relax, Merlin. It’s actually a rather pleasant assignment for a change. Her eyes sparkled into his. “I’m delegating.”

“Delegating?” he asked.

“Why yes! Imagine that we’re short staffed. Princess Mithian is going to need an _extraordinary_ valet for the duration of her stay. We can’t risk offending her father either. So….” She shrugged.

He stared at her. “You made me her valet? I can do that?”

She cleared her throat. “Yes I believe you can. There is a curious line in Camelot’s charter where it comes to royal orders to the household. If the King refuses to take command of a situation, it falls to the next authority figure in line. As his wife, regent and the Queen, that would be me. And as Queen, I am commanding you to spend as much time with the Princess and King as you can. There are several aspects to consider. First of all, from a diplomatic standpoint, it keeps you in the royal household and away from the stables and other such filthy places. In that way, we aren’t making matters worse on that front with the other rulers. Second, I do need my best servants tending to the royal guests. Third, I know how Princess Mithian and you feel about each other. This way you two can spend time together without anyone being the wiser. Fourth, you can impress King Rodor by just being your usual self.”

He nodded. Despite some feelings of being herded ever so slightly, his earlier musings only lent weight to what Gwen had said earlier. He wanted to ask Mithian about this. Still he could feel her sleeping in his mind. “You certainly have planned for everything. I suppose the Princess suggested it?”

“She requested your service. So has her father. Again diplomatic reasons can work for overall agenda,” she reiterated.

“Yeah. I imagine they can. Gwen, what happens if I do something? I could do something wrong. I….” he worried.

“Merlin, calm down. You can be a bit clumsy sometimes. Still you do a great job. I wouldn’t put this task on anyone else. Consider it a track to a permanent position?” she assured him.

“Permanent position?” He glanced at her. Dread and Skepticism were more than prevalent in his mood.

“Yes. Any time that Princess Mithian’s here in Camelot, you are hereby assigned to her. If she chooses to treat you like let’s say a nobleman in her presence, that’s for her to decide,” she declared.

“Gwen, I’m not….” 

“Merlin, Arthur doesn’t recognize that because he doesn’t want to. You’ve more than fulfilled the three requirements both for here and Nemeth. I’m sure that you’ve proven your worth to Percival on the battlefield more than once. The argument could be made for you to be a noble in Mercian eyes as well. I know the truth. I respect that you want to keep this a secret along with your magic. Granted I don’t agree with you. Still the fact that you’re still thinking of Arthur despite everything only makes me want to do it more. If anyone deserves this, it’s you, Merlin. Besides you have two ladies to make happy as well.”

“The Princess and my mother,” he conceded.

“You’re seeing my point. Merlin, there are many ways you can protect Arthur besides being his valet. Granted I’d like you here for selfish reasons. Still, as a Prince, you can fight openly alongside him. You can help more people in several kingdoms. Besides you helped me. Now I can do the same for Princess Mithian and you,” she clarified.

His eyes twinkled at her. “I appreciate it, Gwen.” He walked toward the window. His eyes gazed out toward the western woods and beyond them once again. “You sound like Princess Mithian.”

“I know she’s made that argument to you.” Seeing him stiffen, she added, “I’m in your corner, Merlin. As a Prince, you can do more good than a thousand valets can. Besides you can be there for Avalon and others with magic.”

“There’s that too.” He had to admit she had just nailed every bullseye in her plan. “I so want to believe that it can happen. Arthur and you went through so much.”

“And it’s because of your faith that it happened, Merlin. Just have faith in yourself. Do that and your friends can deal with the rest for you.” She offered a royal nod of the head. “For the Prince in Waiting. Do have a good evening.”

“And to you, Gwen.” He bowed to her. Then he opened the door. “Let me know if you need anything.”

“Always. Thank you again, Merlin. I’m sure King Rodor and Princess Mithian will appreciate your care and consideration.” With that, she departed back toward the stairs and the royal chambers above.

He closed the door slowly. Disbelief and Joy overwhelmed his thinking. 

Gwen had just given him the perfect opportunity.

Now if he could just pull it off……


	5. Bitter Tidings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The triple goddess observes events in Camelot. She speaks to Freya about these things and trends.

Chapter 5 [Somewhere Else]

Deep within the mists, the triple goddess observed all things in the Five Kingdoms. Her brow furrowed. Her hand passed before the image in front of her causing it to shimmer and glow. Then a series of events came into view. She beheld Percival and Blancheflor’s coronation in Mercia’s Tamworth Castle. The conversations between Gwen and Merlin not to mention Mithian and Rodor came to her attention. She observed Cawdor’s, Tintagel’s, the Amazons’ and Caerleon’s respective progresses toward Camelot for the upcoming Samhain festival. Another change revealed Gaius’ grim mood as he tended the sick in some province. A final pass revealed the tension between Arthur and Gawain while on patrol.

_Already the cracks in the old foundation show themselves. Freya?_ She turned from her observation point. Her feet seemed to glide over the smooth stones underfoot. 

Freya appeared in a puff of mist. She curtseyed before the deity. “Aye, Mother?”

_How go the preparations for Samhain? Will the fallen receive proper due?_ the goddess queried.

“Despite the Pendragons’ ban, we prepare as best we can. Those who follow your path do the same,” Freya noted.

_Despite the ban. Yes there is *that*._ Sarcasm flavored a particularly loud cough. _The Young Pendragon hates his father’s legacy. Yet he only seeks to change that which suits his agenda. He has no idea what looms next._

“Milady, we dealt with the Southron threat. Camelot has been restored,” Freya noted. 

_Yes. Camelot has been restored. But for how long? Arthur Pendragon learned little from his ordeal. Even if he fulfilled his obligation to Guinevere, other languish in the shadows. Other threats rise from beyond his borders. Some he makes. Some have watched and waited. Some both,_ the goddess declared.

“Queen Morgana of Tintagel? But, Milady, she has promised not to scheme against Camelot. She wants another chance with our sisterhood. Arthur hurt her. So did Uther and Morgause,” Freya countered.

_Morgana Pendragon abides by my sentence. Still I do believe she will aid whatever will cause her brother pain. In the end, it will matter little. What she favors is in line with my objectives, my Priestess. I would remind her though to have good intentions in mind to go with her actions. I can see her motives. She would aid Mithian of Nemeth’s quest to be with Emrys. Still she should look to your example. Actions without sacrifice mean little in the end._

Freya nodded stiffly. “I appreciate that. I do my duty to you, Mother. As for what must be, Arthur’s marriage opens the door for them. Those who know their feelings for each other support them. Arthur and Gaius however do not. Pity. They are important to Merlin.”

_They are indeed. The boy clings too tightly to them. Let us hope Gaius can look beyond what is convenient and safe for the Greater Good._ Indignation blazed in the deity’s eyes. _I have a mind for old accounts._

“Old accounts?” Freya trembled. 

_Aye. Gaius was one of ours. He was sworn to uphold my will and to defend my province. When Uther Pendragon massacred my followers and destroyed the temples, he turned a blind eye. He stood by and watched for the sake of his own skin. Now he counsels Emrys to do the same. The goddess shook her head. I understand he teaches Emrys about Discretion’s benefit. Still there will be an accounting for what happened before._ Turning to the High Priestess, she added, _Perhaps you should speak with Kilgarrah or Nimue? They received the fruits of the elder Pendragon’s bitter harvest first hand. No. I would not have Gaius holding Emrys back for much longer. He will go to Nemeth and come into his own. There Emrys will build on what he’s started in Camelot._

“But Arthur is the High King. Milady, if Merlin does that, he risks war with Camelot. Can we tear the land apart? Freya pointed out.

_The land bleeds now, Freya. While some resist me, others are prevented from following as they will. Is that truly spiritual freedom? What of you and the others not being allowed to practice your craft as you will? Those few deluded mortals who seek to control all for their own precious egos inflict pain on all others. And they call that religious freedom? Their insubordination will reap its proper harvest in due time,_ the goddess explained. _Patience is key. Britannia tires of Uther’s poison. Soon it will be confronted._

“I pray there can be healing without bloodshed, Milady,” Freya begged. She folded her hands and bowed at the waist.

_That is up to Arthur Pendragon and his ilk. Soon the Young King will receive his advisory. He has already put events in motion. He relishes public humiliation, does he? What he will inflict on himself goes beyond wearing a woman’s garment. Be prepared. That is all for now._ The goddess placed her hand on Freya’s shoulder. _I appreciate your sacrifice, Daughter, and your service._

“I love this land. I know my place even as I care for Merlin, Milady.” Freya curtseyed. Then she turned and disappeared into the mists anew.

_Such loyalty should be heeded by all._ The goddess turned back toward her observation point. She passed her hand before it. Her eye beheld other images…some of which elicited a smile. _Well now. We are about to make a discovery. Are we?_

As she’d noted, one’s reaping came from what they sowed. What came next would be telling…..


	6. Concerns Before Arrival

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin and Mithian share their concerns about preparations and presentation of things for the festival.

Chapter 6   
[After Sunset]

With the last of _Sol’s_ rays fading into the darkness, the realm slipped into more peaceable activities. Revelers, fresh off of their toils, raised their pints in taverns across Britannia. The ladies of the night waited on certain needs. Farmers and merchants slept and recharged for the next day. Travelers rested even as some of their number kept watch for those who’d use Shadow’s cloak for their own ends. And there were those who pressed on with their tasks despite the hour.

For some, other things would take precedence…..

 

****

 

[Camelot—Physicians’ Chambers]

Merlin set the old straw broom back in its corner. He leaned back against the wall; his eye scanning the chamber’s floor. Not seeing a speck of dirt anywhere, he relaxed. _At least Gaius will see I haven’t been loafing about._ He sat down at the old worn table. There he tore off a piece of bread from the day old wheat loaf sitting there. The mouthful quelled Hunger’s complaints ever so slightly. He drank a draught from the faded wooden cup; the water quenching Thirst’s arid grip upon his mouth and throat. He relaxed slightly.

The Nemeth guest chambers stood ready to receive their guests. The beds were freshly made. The wooden surfaces shone in the daylight. The glass had not a streak on its smooth surface. Even the floors underfoot had been freshly cleaned. A fresh bouquet of Mithian’s favorite flowers sat in her chamber specifically. 

_I hope they like their chambers._ Anxiety and Doubt bit at his insides.

_If you oversaw the preparations, my Warlock, I know we will find them to be exemplary,_ Mithian assured him. 

_I appreciate that, Princess. You know I’ll do whatever I can to make you happy. I just hope I can do the same for King Rodor,_ he replied.

_Father knows of your heart, Merlin. Just be yourself. He’s looking forward to meeting you,_ she replied. _I command you to take care of yourself. Get a good night’s sleep for once._

_You command me to take care of myself? Whatever will Arthur think of that?_ he wondered albeit half-seriously.

_He can deal with it. I love you. While I’m in Camelot, I can make sure you’re not worked to death,_ she pointed out.

_I appreciate that. I love you too,_ he declared. _Make sure you’re taking care of yourself too, Princess. Thank you._

_Thank you as well,_ she concluded. _Merlin, I love you._

He reclined in his chair. His heart skipped a beat. A dreamy smile spread across his face. His eyes closed. With her blessing, he drifted off into a deep sleep.

 

****

 

[Campsite—On the Border Between Camelot and Gedref]

The Nemeth contingent rode hard for the day’s entirety. With only two brief breaks to eat and water the horses, the party had cleared the distance between Whitgate and Camelot’s western border. An hour following _Luna’s_ ascension into her stellar backdrop, the group finally camped for the night. The knights divided up the scouting responsibilities. The attending household servants gathered wood and prepared meals for the King and Princess.

All hoped for some rest before the morning and the rest of the trip……

 

****

 

Mithian rubbed her chin. She sat on the ground; her back resting against a birch tree. She grimaced. Her eyes scanned the darkened woods around the encampment. Still she saw or heard no threat. Bandits do rove through the woods.

_You may rest, Mithian. I watch over your group,_ Kilgarrah assured her. _As I suppose you do as well, Great One?_

_I am ever watchful, Dragon, Malodius_ rebutted sharply. _I do appreciate your eyes as well. I trust that the Young One is with you?_

_Of course. The Princess is nice to me. So are you. Why shouldn’t I be the same?_ Aithusa chimed in.

_That is what friends do for each other,_ Mithian agreed. Her heart warmed at her friends’ support and protection. She saw her father approaching. _We should speak again later, Friends._ With that, she turned her eyes toward Rodor. “Father, what might I do for you?” 

“You seem to have a great deal on your mind, Mithian. Are you unwell?” he asked. Concern showed through in his eyes.

She smiled for his benefit. “I’m fine, Father. I think on our part for the Samhain service. We should honor Mother and Grandfather. I also wonder how much to say though about Merlin’s father.”

“We should honor and respect the dead in all roles. Concerning Sir Balinor, I can put his name forward if you’d like. I can anticipate how Camelot would be uncomfortable at the mention of his name. Uther mistreated him both there and in our realm. Samhain gives us a chance to address past misdeeds. Prejudice may seek to impede our progress in certain regards. Still, if Arthur wishes his perfect world, he should allow for others to do the same. Those of us who would embrace the old ways and the triple goddess should be allowed to do likewise,” he told her. “Still I appreciate your caution in how you would raise this matter.”

“I do not mean to be a coward. Merlin, Kilgarrah, _Malodius_ and our allies in Avalon deserve as much. So do the victims of the Great Purge. Diplomacy should have its turn first before War takes his turn,” she conceded.

“How you grow, Daughter. And you doubt yourself?” Pride beamed across his face coalescing into the smile for her. “You balance our subjects’ needs with those of Britannia. You place them on equal ground if not ahead of your desires. I thank you for that.”

“You’ve taught me well, Father. So…has Merlin in that regard.” Shyness reddened her cheeks. Her eyes averted. 

“Oh?” Even as he suspected as much, he wanted to hear her say so.

“He is so gifted and talented. He could force the issue. Still he is content to serve and make others’ lives better in the process. He sacrifices for the Greater Good. He endures Arthur’s prattishness and still does the job. I’d say more but I do not wish to bore you,” she reminded him.

“Why would I be bored to hear of such virtues? I look forward to meeting him on the morrow.” He kissed her on the brow. “Now you should get some sleep. Dawn will come soon enough.”

For some reason, her eyes felt heavy all of a sudden. She nodded. “Aye, Father. Good night. I appreciate you looking in on me.”

“Always, Mithian. It is my pleasure. Perhaps though you might join me?” He offered one last smile. Then he turned and left for his tent.

“I’ll be there shortly,” she noted. Still her eyes sagged more. She drifted off before another heartbeat passed.


	7. Dreamscape

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin and Mithian puzzle through a curious new place....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We’re about to take an even more unique turn. Those of you who’ve read “Refuge” have seen a version of it. Enjoy! 

Chapter 7 [Dreamscape]

Merlin twitched his nose. His nostrils for some reason detected strange and unique floral scents. A warm breeze ruffled his hair. His skin didn’t dimple from the expected draft. Instead of sitting, he felt himself lying on something soft. His eyes snapped open. Surprise opened them ever wider and slacked his jaw. 

A gigantic meadow went on in all directions around him. Tall grasses swayed in the aforementioned breeze. A brook meandered not far to his right through the land. Its water foamed ever so slightly against a few rocks in its path. _Sol’s_ light sparkled upon its surface. A few trees with their crowns of leaves dotted the area.

“What? Where am I?” He stood slowly. He surveyed the landscape. His mind spun trying to imagine who could have put him there. _Morgause is dead. Morgana doesn’t have her magic. Maybe one of the other priestesses?_ He raised an eyebrow. Alarm and Uncertainty jarred him onward.

On top of all of that, the familiar feel of the Link strummed across his senses. Mithian was there too. He could feel her.

“The Princess?” He paced. His heart beat furiously. He clenched his teeth. _Princess? Princess Mithian?_

For a couple of heartbeats, no response seemed forthcoming. Silence deafened his senses. 

Then Mithian hesitantly called, _Merlin? Is that you? What’s wrong? We….Where are we?_

_I was hoping you could tell me. Where are you? I can feel you around here somewhere._ He looked all about once again. _Are you all right?_

_I think so._ She eased herself to one elbow and then into a sitting position. From that, she slowly stood and emerged from behind a particularly massive oak tree. Seeing him there, Relief eased her mood. Still she inspected their surroundings.

_I already looked. I don’t see anything._ He hustled toward her. With a single jump, he vaulted the stream. (Granted with very little to spare, mind you.) He stumbled on the far edge but urged himself to stable ground. He walked toward her.

She snorted. “So graceful, Merlin. You do have style, you know.”

He rolled his eyes. “Very funny, Princess. Had to make sure a certain person was safe. Kind of worth risking a bath.” He looked her over. He could see that her typical riding clothes—the white top over dark breeches cinched with a belt about her waist—remained intact. He saw no bruises or any apparent injury. “Everything seems in order.”

“It is now.” She did the same for him. Then she pulled him into an embrace. “At least as far as what it seems. You honestly don’t know?”

“Wish I did, Princess.” He held her close against himself as well. Their hearts beat as one. Her warmth eased his pulse and mood. “Thanks.”

“My pleasure.” She put the side of her face against his chest. For a half dozen heartbeats more, she soaked in as much of his strength and warmth as possible. “I wish we could stay like this.”

“We do have to find out what’s going on.” He considered their surroundings. “Even if it does seem great, there’s something off about this.”

“And Arthur calls you an idiot? I knew you had a passable sense about yourself,” she complimented albeit in a back handed way.

“Excuse me?” He exhaled sharply.

Triumph sparkled in her eyes and pulled her mouth into a smirk. She rubbed his arm playfully. “You do have those rough edges, my Warlock, to consider.”

“Kind of like the way naggy royals can be,” he jabbed back not giving an inch to her.

She shook her head. Once again she failed to understand how her former fiancé could so grossly undervalue his servant. Granted she wasn’t about to show weakness in that setting. Still Merlin didn’t either. Once again, he was rising to the occasion. He shoved Doubt out of the picture. He rammed his way past Insecurity and Hesitation. He heeded Discretion’s and Strategy’s respective plans. Rather than cower, he stood his ground. He took his place beside her. And he did so even if his wisecracks made her eyes roll in the process.

Ah yes…Merlin…her Warlock….her Someday Prince….

“Any ideas?” he prompted.

“Hmm?” She glanced around again. “It all seems very nice. Still it could be a gilded cage for all we know. I could use a drink to deal with this thirst.”

As if by chance, a golden goblet appeared in her hand.

“What’s that?” He studied the vessel.

“It looks like a goblet, Merlin.”

“I can see that. Thank you, Princess.” Irritation flushed his face cherry red. He peered into it. “Clear liquid. Could be water.”

She jerked her hand slightly allowing said liquid to slosh around a bit. “It is clear like water. It moves like water does.” She dipped her finger into it. “One way to find out.”

“Princess! Don’t! I can….” Horror paled his face. He tried to stop her from sticking the wet index finger into her mouth. 

“I’m not going to use you as the poison tester, Merlin.” She tasted the liquid on her finger. Then she sipped a little. “It’s water.”

“You sure? I can….”

She snorted. “I believe I know what water is, Merlin.” She drained the rest of the goblet. “Interesting. It came when I wished for it.”

He looked her over; his eye searching for symptoms of poison or worse. “It seems too easy.”

“Maybe it is? This place isn’t exactly horrible.” She motioned with her hands. “Even if I have to put up with a certain worrywart.”

“It’s my place to worry about you,” he retorted frankly.

She took a step back. Her eyebrow arched. “Is it now? My, my….Have we discovered something, Merlin?”

Uncertainty froze him in place. He felt as if his tongue had run several steps too far. He was exposed. Still he could salvage something from it. “I have to save royals from themselves. Kind of comes with the territory.” Now it was his turn to smirk at her.

“Does it now? And what would Arthur say about that?” she fired back; Amusement accenting the words emerging from her lips.

“He doesn’t. Gwen overruled him. He gets George. Now we can hope the castle doesn’t blow up in the process,” he informed her.

“Did she now?” A wry cough escaped her throat. “It almost seems that you’d be behind this.”

“I don’t have a death wish. Arthur’s mad enough at me right now. He’d stick me in the stocks for sure,” he noted.

“Not while I’m there, he won’t. Now I do get to run you ragged,” she declared.

“So much for thinking things are different now.” Still his eyes twinkled at her.

“I’m not like that, Merlin. You know that.”

“I’ll ask a buck or the birds in the woods some time,” he sassed. He walked about. His eye inspected the ground looking for a suitable spot.

She sniffed. “They’re prey. You’re a servant. There’s a difference.”

“Those stories out of Gaul say they’re the same. It’s about pursuit. You’re the master hunter. You want me.” He shrugged. “Prince Bors just came from Gaul. He’s taking Percival’s place. Anyhow he brought a bard, Master Chretien, with him. Gwen had him perform for the court.”

“And you listened, did you?” She had heard such bards tell their tales. Rodor had the few wandering bards recite stories at Whitgate’s court in exchange for meals and a few days’ respite from the road’s uncertainties. For all of their less than desirable qualities, a couple of her past suitors had brought their own court bards with them. Still Merlin’s discovery about courtly love impressed her. “Not many servants would.” She rubbed his arm. “You’re not prey, Merlin. Yes I am pursuing you. I want you but not as I would want a buck let’s say. You are not a trophy to be snared and bedded. To some, your magic would make you so. Not to me. Never to me. And you know why?”

“Sure. I’ve never had anyone speak like this to me,” he conceded.

“Because you treat me like a human being rather than the puffed up Princess. You gave me a second chance when nobody in Camelot would. You went out of your way to make sure my breakfast with Arthur had the best meal and location…even if you made him belch like the tavern drunk in the process,” she assured him. “I don’t see a servant or a sorcerer or a master reeve. I see a man with an incredibly warm heart. I see a King. My King. The one I want to be Queen for….”

His heart swooned. He embraced her again. _Amor_ rushed up and down his spine. His lips brushed feather-soft against her forehead. “I want to believe that.”

“It will happen, Merlin. We aren’t alone. Still we have to believe.” She looked at him firmly. “Before we do though, we do have our immediate problem.”

“Yeah that.” He set his jaw. Disappointment weighed on him.

“Merlin, we’re not forgetting about it. We’re at the beginning not the end. Have faith, my Prince.” She caught herself saying the P-Word. While she’d said it at other points to the surrounding friends, she’d never uttered it to him. 

“You mean it.”

She nodded. Her eyes met his. “With all of my heart. I told you before. One day, I will come to you before my father. And only you.” 

He smiled; his mood picked up slightly. His eyes thanked her without words spoken or empathically passed.

_And such are the moments like these, my Children,_ a familiar voice cut in.

The couple stopped cold. They slowly turned to find the triple goddess considering them in turn. They managed a bow apiece for the deity. 

_You both realize your destiny. That is a good thing. Rest assured, this is a safe place,_ the goddess assured them.

“What is it? It seems so great but….” He glanced around again.

_It is a paradise created by the love you both have for each other. I gave it form and substance. Still your bond provided a powerful seed. Anything you wish for will appear. Here you will be safe. As long as you both serve me and look out for my followers, it will remain so,_ the goddess continued.

“And we’re worthy?” Mithian wondered.

_You serve others. You have sacrificed your time and bond for them. Now I give you a bit of grace. Continue on the road you have started down. I bless you both. Now believe in what you have, my Children. Farewell for now…._ The goddess disappeared into the air about them.

He exhaled deeply. “We can have…this?”

“Yes, Merlin. It would seem so,” she presumed. “You can stop worrying now.”

“I want you to have the best. Have to stay passable after all,” he cracked.

She rolled her eyes but said nothing. At heart, she was glad he could loosen up a little. “You do manage.”

He chuckled. With a wave of his hand, he made a sheet appear on the grass. On it, a covered plate, two wooden cups and a flask materialized. “Figured you might be hungry.”

“Did you now? Let’s see what that devious mind came up with.” She kneeled on the sheet. Her hand raised the cover. There she discovered a block of cheese, two pieces of wheat bread and a small bunch of red grapes huddling for her consideration. “You remembered. Granted the presentation needs work but….”

He coughed. “I’m learning.”

“So you are. I can allow you some slack this once,” she teased. Mirth sparkled in her eyes much as _Sol_ did on the stream nearby. She gave him a gentle tug. “I do suppose you can join me?”

He followed her lead. He sat down beside her. Routine pushed him on. He broke her off some grapes and set them on a plate. Then he put the bread and a piece of cheese with it. “That is for you.”

“Thank you, Merlin. Still here you are not my servant.” She took a grape and held it out to him. “The first one for you, my Love.”

He took it and considered it for a heartbeat. Then he bit into it. Little by little, he savored the fruit’s sweetness mixed with her warmth. He looked into her eyes once more. “We serve each other.” He squeezed her hand for emphasis.

Joy sprang within her heart. A sigh escaped her lips. “You only make my case for me, Merlin.” She kissed him. “Thank you.”

“Thank you, Princess.” His lips pressed down on hers. _Amor’s_ warmth energized them and soothed their concerns. They only knew each other and their mutual feelings. And for several heartbeats, this was so.

After a while, she lamented, “We do have to go back.”

He gently held a piece of fruit out to her. “I know. Kind of putting it off.” He extended it allowing her to bite into it.

She chewed and swallowed savoring his offering to her. “Duty calls as it will. We will see each other again by midday.” Her lips brushed his cheek. “Have faith.”

“And you. I’ll be waiting,” he advised.

“And I for you, my Prince,” she noted. She laid her forehead on his. “I love you.”

“I love you,” he echoed back.

And with that, a bright flash of light swept them away once again…..


	8. Royal Reception

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur and Camelot greet each of the attending monarchs and their retinues. Still tensions are developing. Each of the monarchs has their issues. So does Arthur. Merlin's nervous. Gawain has a bone to pick it seems as well....

Chapter 8 [Several Hours Later]  
[Camelot’s Square]

Merlin sucked in a deep breath. He looked around at the other members of the household. Then his eye swept across the assembled knights standing just in front of himself. Finally he noted how the newly-arrived Prince Bors, Arthur and Gwen stood primly at the front of the group. The courtyard had been cleared. It seemed strange to him. After a morning of hurried last minute preparations, all seemed ready for the gathering.

Dread though reminded him of the last time they stood in formation like that. I don’t want to deal with another scene like that. Shame weighed down his heart. He discerned the knights dealing with their own feelings and emotions in that regard. _Seems they feel the same. Where is everyone?_

 _I can feel your worrying from here, Merlin,_ Mithian teased. _We’re just outside the gate. Procession and all of that. It is quite the gathering._

 _I’ll take your word for it._ His mouth broke into the slightest of smiles. 

On cue, the event started. Two heralds’ horns trumpeted from beyond the city’s walls. Everyone stood almost stiffly at attention. They waited for a further sign.

The clops of horses’ hooves upon the stones reached their ears. A few heartbeats later, four of Camelot’s own rode front escort. Just in front of the stairs, they stopped in perfect rhythm. Just behind them, a dozen light blue clad knights surrounded a burly man whose dark beard and hair bore bits of Age’s frost within their strands. That leader looked to the stairs.

Prince Bors nodded to that one.

Next came a troop of crimson clad warriors led by a hulking man mountain in matching plate armor; the latter’s glare swept the entire area. For a split heartbeat, it spied Gawain eliciting Disdain from that ruler.

Gawain bowed his head. Rage billowed up inside of him. He clenched his teeth. Still he followed Duty’s charge and stood there.

 _Okay. What was *that* about?_ Merlin wondered.

After the crimson group passed through, a purple clad entourage took its turn. Within its numbers, Morgana held her head high. _They aren’t worth my spite. Let them hate me. I only sought my role as a Pendragon. Now I follow Gorlois’ lead. Let them deal with that._ She nodded to Arthur curtly before guiding her knights to their place.

Next Percival and Blancheflor led their best knights past the welcoming contingent. Mercia’s flag flapped in the wind where Reynald held it. 

Queen Annis came next with her troops. Fatigue seemed to weigh ever so slightly even across their composed ranks. The road, for them, seemed to be long.

Seven buckskin-clad women approached next. All had quivers strapped to their backs and bows resting in front of them on their respective mounts’ necks. Their leader glanced about at the entourage. A crown of antlers and laurel rested upon her blonde locks. She glanced back toward someone and offered a nod. Then she did the same toward Arthur and Gwen.

Finally Rodor and Mithian led their emerald entourage up the stone cobbles. Their gait remained steady and secure. Just behind them, Galahad and Ywain beckoned their companions forward. _Malodius_ kept his eyes forward except for a brief exchange with Merlin’s. At the rear, Britomart maintained Humility’s guise. With a brief nod and wave from the rulers, the group completed the combined march.

Arthur cleared his throat. He clasped Gwen’s hand. Then he announced, “Welcome to Camelot, Everyone! We have arranged quarters for you all. I am sure you all would like to settle in before the Samhain celebration tonight. If there is anything else, we would be most happy to meet those needs. For now, be welcome!” He clapped his hands allowing the household to get to their assignments.

Merlin made his way through the group. He offered Percival, Blancheflor and Morgana bows in turn. He tried to shut out the crimson-clad man’s stench. He noted that Reginald, the newest household servant, attended to the blonde Amazon and her troop. He composed himself with a single breath. Anxiety caused him to shake a bit. His feet scuffled. His breath came out ragged. Still he pressed on for his Princess’ sake. He came to a stop by Rodor and Mithian. He bowed to them. “King Rodor, welcome, Your Majesty. Princess, welcome back to Camelot.”

“Thank you, Merlin. It is a pleasure to be back,” Mithian replied. While she would have wished for him to guide her to the stones, she knew they needed to maintain appearances. Thus she allowed Ywain to do so. _Breathe, Merlin. It will be all right._

 _Says you. Your father’s here. I…._ Merlin observed.

 _He respects you, Balinor’s Son, as do we all. You have earned our regard already, Malodius_ assured him.

 _Indeed, Malodius. As for your observation, Merlin, yes he is. Do your duty and trust in that,_ Mithian advised adding a wry raise of her eyebrow and a smirk of equal quality. “This is my father, Merlin, King Rodor.”

Rodor dismounted. He strode the four steps toward the Warlock. As he did so, he weighed in his mind on how to greet his daughter’s intended suitor. In most cases, he would have an extended greeting. Perhaps he’d offer some wine and refreshment for the courtier in question. Still he had to remember appearances much as Mithian was laboring to do. “Merlin, it is my pleasure to meet you. I am sure you have outdone yourself in preparing our quarters. Would you please assist Britomart in bringing our possessions upstairs?”

“Indeed I shall, King Rodor.” Merlin bowed one more time. He exchanged brief glances with Mithian once more. “Shall I see your horses to the stable?”

“Thank you for thinking of that. Aye. Please do that,” Rodor told him. 

Merlin took the two horses’ reins. He exchanged glances with Britomart. Then he led the two horses toward their waiting stalls in the stables.

Arthur stepped over from where he’d greeted the other monarchs. “King Rodor, I can get someone to help bring your possessions up to the chamber.”

“Thank you, King Arthur. I appreciate your greeting.” Rodor nodded to his host. “Merlin, I’m sure, will attend to everything in good fashion. I have been well assured of his eye for detail and merit in his duty.”

Arthur nodded. While he would’ve thrown a barb in his servant’s direction perhaps playful or half-serious, he wouldn’t do so in front of Mithian. Feeling her gaze, he restrained himself. “He does that in a fashion. The quarters are ready.” He smiled for his former _fiancée_. “Princess, it is a pleasure once again.”

“Indeed, Sire. This is a grand gathering. Perhaps it might signal a wider peace?” Mithian supposed.

“That would be my hope as well,” Arthur agreed. “I’m sure Merlin will meet your needs. If you will excuse me?” With that, he pressed on toward his other guests.

“How odd.” Rodor knew Arthur to be more of a man of action rather than words. Still he had expected a bit more pleasantry especially toward Mithian given recent events.

“He can be like that,” Morgana told them. “King Rodor, Princess Mithian, it is good to see you again.”

“I had heard that Gorlois’ crown had passed to you, Queen Morgana. My congratulations,” Rodor bade with a royal nod. “I hope to speak of a treaty while we’re here?”

“If Opportunity allows, indeed we shall. If not, we can meet at Tintagel or Whitgate to make it happen,” Morgana agreed. “Princess Mithian, you seem well.”

“I am refreshed despite the length of our ride. The woods seem more peaceable now than in recent times. Peace will help everyone,” Mithian assured her. She shook hands with the neighboring Queen. _Especially if it keeps you on the right path. I hope you keep your word to the goddess, Morgana._

“I’m sure.” Morgana motioned toward the crimson King. “Meleagant has that look about him. I would like nothing better than to have allies. If we abide by the peace then so should he.”

“Indeed.” Rodor regarded Meleagant. “Perhaps we might speak again? I would have refreshment and ponder my sentiments before the feast.”

“We shall.” Morgana smiled allowing Appreciation’s warmth to show through for those counterparts. Given how the iciness around the courtyard toward her, she welcomed any allies she could get. 

“Come, Mithian. We should clean the trail’s dust from our faces. Britomart and Merlin can see to our needs.” He offered a warm smile at the mention of his name. Then he guided her up the stairs and into the castle.

Britomart glanced toward the stairs. Relief and Consternation chewed inside of her simultaneously. While she hadn’t seen the other kingdoms’ passage toward the stairs, she’d seen Gawain’s irritation over something. _I hope that oaf didn’t cause a scene. I wonder if he can keep his resolve if there isn’t a cask involved._ She camped out by her lieges’ items and waited for Merlin’s return.

A short time later, the Warlock in question hustled back toward her. By luck and design, he had two spots waiting for Nemeth’s royal steeds. He quickly saw to the horses making sure their hay, oats and comfort was in order. Still he’d taken longer than either he or Britomart had initially anticipated. After a bit longer, he returned to the fire hair’s side. “Thanks for waiting, Britomart. Sorry about that. Had to get the horses under cover. Queen Elena of the Amazons needed some extra assistance. I wanted to be sure she and her companions were taken care of. I can’t believe Reginald left them unattended.”

“He what?” Britomart’s eyes went wide. “You will tell Queen Guinevere. Correct?”

“Absolutely. I hope the Princess understands. I hope King Rodor understands too.” He gulped and trembled. With a deep breath, he sized up one side of the waiting trunk.

“King Rodor is a sensible man, Merlin. He’ll appreciate that you saw to another in need. And you know how Princess Mithian feels about such things. He’s heard all of us at the court who know you tell of your worth…unlike a certain other cabbage head in chain mail. I would have hoped that he’d have helped us,” she assured him. She hefted one end of the waiting trunk. “Get the other end and we’ll have everything in order soon enough.” 

“Thanks.” He put his hands under his end in order to lift it. His eye met the remaining bags on the stones. “Maybe I should get some other help? I don’t want their things left unattended.” As he said that, he saw three of the buckskinned contingent marching toward them. “They should have been all set. Sorry.” He set his end down and walked toward the three Amazons. “I’m sorry about Reginald, Sisters. I can get some more help for you.”

“Thank you, Merlin. Your earlier help was most welcome. Queen Elena sent us to help you with these bags. She is already on her way to explain your delay.” The leader, a tall and fit woman with a long braid hanging halfway down her back, regarded Britomart. “A woman who bears her share. You do us all honor, Sister. I am Matilda, Queen Elena’s Chief Advisor.”

Britomart bit her lip. She exchanged glances with him; Nervousness flitting briefly through her eyes. As with everyone at court, she’d heard legends of the fierce Amazons. She’d marveled and even pretended to be one as a child. She still admired them. “Britomart, Princess Mithian’s maid.”

“You should see her with a sword in her hand,” he noted.

“Truly so?” Matilda regarded the maid once again. Her eyebrow raised with Respect’s upward push. “It seems Nemeth merits our friendship.”

“Merlin, please. I’m sure they won’t want to hear about that. I’m not a warrior. I fight when I need to,” Britomart deflected. Sweat beaded across her forehead. “Besides we shouldn’t bother them.”

“It is no bother to serve others, Britomart. One should not seek to provoke war. Rather we fight in service to ourselves and the Greater Good. That is the only time weapons should see battle. Friendship and Diplomacy move mountains. Do not be ashamed of service. It is the highest of callings. I would say Merlin and you have done more to set peace in motion than all of King Arthur’s words can do through your kindness.” Matilda nodded. Then she glanced toward her companions. “Mechtild and Elnred, lend a hand. Friends will help friends.”

Britomart smiled at him. Even in deviating from the plan, she admired how Merlin had dealt with a difficult situation and rendered yet another opening for Opportunity’s grace. Even as he is so uncertain, he has the makings of a Prince. 

With that, the combined mission attended to the task at hand…and set a better mood….

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay...can't wait to see where some of these subplots go. More coming up soon!


	9. Amazonian Gratitude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Amazons' queen visits with Rodor and Mithian. She acknowledges Merlin's act of kindness.

Chapter 9 [Rodor’s Chamber]

Even as he waited for the possessions to arrive, Rodor walked about the chamber. His eye inspected every detail, nook and cranny. He passed a careful finger over the gleaming oaken wardrobe’s side. Picking up not a speck of dust, he nodded. He considered the mirror. “It is a splendid chamber.”

“It is indeed, Father. I trust it meets with your approval?” Mithian replied evenly. 

“Indeed it does. I do believe we could read in here after nightfall with not a torch lit. Merlin prepared for us well.” Seeing her blush, he smiled. “I’d expected perhaps half of this quality. Merlin outdoes himself. Why was he so nervous?”

“He wanted to make a good first impression on you, Father,” she explained. “He so wants your acceptance.” Even as she said that, she could feel Merlin’s nerves flaring through the Link. _It will be all right, Merlin. He likes the room._

_He does? That’s good. Thanks,_ Merlin expressed. _We’ll be right there. Had something come up._

_Something? I…._ At that point, Mithian heard a knock at the door. “Now who?”

“Britomart would have brought everything in,” Rodor presumed. “Daughter, can you open it?”

“Aye.” She walked over to the chamber door. Slowly she opened it to find the crowned Amazon from the courtyard waiting there. “Greetings. I am Princess Mithian of Nemeth. You are the Amazon Queen?”

“I am. It is an honor to meet a sister who is skilled with both leadership and the bow. Your reputation precedes you, Princess Mithian. I am Elena, Queen of the Amazons. Might I come in? I wish to report a good turn done by one loyal to you,” Elena declared.

Mithian looked back to her father. “Father?”

“Please allow our fellow ruler in. I would meet with her.” He inspected his appearance making sure that all was in order. Then he watched Elena enter the chamber. He saw Caution guiding the visitor’s steps and actions as much as it did his and Mithian’s. “I am King Rodor of Nemeth. We have heard a great deal about the Amazons. Welcome and thank you for your kind regards. Might we offer you some fruit or wine?”

“Thank you but no, King Rodor. I appreciate it,” Elena declined. “I can explain why your possessions have not reached here. I ask that you pardon Arthur’s servant, Merlin. He stopped to help us.”

“Indeed? How so?” Rodor asked. His eyes met Mithian’s. “Is he all right? Was there any mayhem or mischief?”

“The boy King Arthur put with us rushed off and never returned. We did not know where to stable our horses. Merlin offered his assistance. He insured proper shelter for them. I wanted to acknowledge the kindness, King Rodor,” Elena reported.

“From what Princess Mithian has told me, such acts come to Merlin quite naturally. He puts others often before himself. This is but another such example of that quality. I am sorry that he is not here. I would pass along your regards. He and our maid, Britomart, bring our possessions here as we speak,” Rodor indicated. “Perhaps we can tell him?”

“Merlin would say that it’s his pleasure,” Mithian assured their visitor. Pride however swelled in her chest. “It’s his way to make friends and see to their needs.”

“Arthur of Camelot should make him a diplomat. King Percival of Mercia mentioned Merlin during our negotiations two moons ago. Cedric’s defeat turned Mercian forces from our border.” Elena nodded. “We owe you our thanks as well, King Rodor and Princess Mithian.”

“As you said, it was our pleasure,” Rodor assured. “Our forces sought to support Camelot. If we can do greater good in the process, then it is a good thing indeed.”

“At least some good came from that battle. We intended to be in Ealdor and then return over the border without being noticed. Unfortunately we were seen. Cedric tried to take advantage of us as he did you. We were fortunate. A dragon lord wandered out of the woods and called two such creatures down on the Mercians’ heads. He saved me from capture. I wish I could thank him. Sadly he disappeared before I could,” Mithian explained half-truthfully.

Elena took in the account. “I had heard King Uther of Camelot had slaughtered the dragon lords during his ill-guided crusade against magic and the Old Religion. I would much like to meet that one to offer him my thanks and a safe haven.”

He nodded. “I am sure he will appear again when our need is greatest. Wouldn’t you say, Mithian?”

“Fate works in such ways, Father,” Mithian concurred somehow managing to not snort or betray Merlin’s secret in the process. 

At that moment, the door opened allowing Britomart to step into the room. “Oh! Pardon me, Your Highness! I did not realize….”

“Please, Britomart, come in. Is Merlin with you?” Rodor relented. With a wave of his hand, he beckoned them inside.

“He is. So are some of the Amazons.” Britomart curtseyed before the three royals. “Thank you, Queen Elena, for their assistance. We hated to trouble them.”

“As your King indicated, it is our way as well to help our friends. Sisters, bring their possessions inside. Then you may return to our chambers,” Elena informed them.

Merlin lugged the trunk in with Matilda’s help. The remaining Amazons carried the remaining items into the chamber. With Britomart’s oversight, they placed the items in the proper places. Then the Amazons departed.

“Queen Elena, thank you for the help,” Merlin expressed while adding a bow.

“Thank you, Merlin. Not all men would be so willing to aid us. I appreciate that. I await your service along with the others at the feast tonight. King Rodor and Princess Mithian, it was good to meet you. Perhaps we might make a treaty at some point?”

“Nemeth would welcome that. We should speak further,” Rodor agreed. “Until tonight then?”

“Until tonight.” Elena concluded. With that she departed from the chamber.

“I wish I knew what happened with Reginald. Sorry to keep you waiting. I….” Merlin apologized. He bowed to the man who (other than Arthur himself) held so much of his hopes and dreams in his hands.

“Merlin, it is quite all right. While I do intend to alert King Arthur to this Reginald’s abandonment of duty, you honored Camelot, the Amazons and us through your actions. A short delay is quite excusable when it is for a diplomatic gesture such as that one. I expect those in my service to show respect toward everyone. You certainly did so and I intend to tell your King as much,” Rodor assured him. “Please rise. Close the door.”

Merlin exchanged nervous looks with Mithian. Then he shut the door. “What might I do for you?”

“Perhaps you might relax? I appreciate your respect, Merlin.” Rodor looked him over. “I wanted to meet you. I’ve heard a great deal. We owe you thanks on several matters. Thank you.”

“I was glad to help. Princess Mithian saved me as well during my trial. Without your knights, we wouldn’t be here right now. Ealdor might be destroyed. Britomart’s a loyal friend. I’m glad I could recover the Queen’s necklace. Thank you, King Rodor,” Merlin expressed.

Rodor smiled at Humility’s display in the younger man. His eyes met Mithian’s for a fleeting point. Then he cleared his throat. “You’re welcome. Perhaps we might borrow your services from King Arthur and Queen Guinevere at some point? There are some things you might wish to see in Whitgate.”

Merlin nodded. He hoped that such a visit would be possible. Certainly his heart pined for any way to spend time around Mithian. “I would like that.”

“Then we should endeavor to make it so. As Princess Mithian has offered Camelot new ideas, so do you have a great deal to offer Nemeth in return, Merlin. We should keep up appearances and maintain our loyalties though. I would not come between King Arthur, Queen Guinevere and you. Still I cannot see her opposing such an understanding,” Rodor told him. “Perhaps you can help Britomart to get everything put away? Afterwards we might share this fruit and drink you’ve so thoughtfully brought on behalf of King Arthur?”

Merlin’s eyes lit up. He definitely picked up in his gait. He walked toward the trunk eager to jump in on that next task.

In such ways were good first impressions laid…..


	10. Preceptions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur blows off steam with Gaius about Merlin. Then Morgana walks in and the discussion *really gets interesting*.

Chapter 10 

While the court’s guests settled into their chambers, the castellans hustled through the final preparations. Audrey snapped and lectured her kitchen staff through the perfect feast. Garlands, albeit somber given the occasion, flew up along the walls and pillars. Clean linen cloths covered the newly arranged tables. On top of them, gleaming plates and utensils—fresh from their ordeal at George’s overbearing hand—awaited the aforementioned meals. 

Even among the visitors, some prepared with special dispensation. Peter, for example, meditated at Mithian’s desk with her permission. He’d received several of the attendees’ predecessors’ names for a special Samhain poem. With only a water cup to slack Thirst’s nagging, he puzzled through potential lyrics, rhymes and structures. Occasionally Sarah would stick her head in to check on his progress and pick his spirits up again before darting away to her next task.

Such was life at the hive as the bees scurried to make their honey…..

 

****

 

[Council Chamber]

Fresh off of the latest meeting with his royal council, Arthur inspected a few charters and deeds. Occasionally he’d recommend a change or some adjustment for the scribes. More often than not, he’d affix the royal seal to each one’s bottom and move on. Still, after a few such inspections, he had to take a break. He leaned back against his chair. Wine assuaged his mouth and throat. His glance shifted toward Gaius who watched him several steps back from the table. “You could have sat down while you were waiting, Gaius.”

“I did not wish to presume, Sire. My report is brief. I just wanted to tell you that the plague has abated out in the provinces. The remedies worked well. Only a dozen deaths reported across the entire western frontier. Everyone else should recover nicely.”

“Splendid! I appreciate the good news.” Arthur sprang up out of his seat. He paced a bit. “The knights still seem out of sorts from the occupation. These guests’ needs do distract from our focus. Samhain always wears on me. And then there’s Merlin.” He shook his head.

“Merlin? I was about to check on him. Is there something wrong?” Gaius stiffened. Worry clouded his thinking wondering if his former charge had betrayed the big secret.

“Merlin’s just being Merlin.” Arthur sniffed and offered a half-hearted shrug. “He did manage to get a few things done around the household since Gwen reinstated him. I’ll say he’s been doing all right. Most of his time though, he’s been with Rodor and Mithian in their chambers.” He snorted. “He’s now their designated chambermaid or some such nonsense.” He exhaled. “Well if Mithian wants to put up with him, she can. I just wish that he would’ve been such an enthusiastic sport about things before.”

Gaius nodded. “He was embarrassed, Sire.”

“Well then he should’ve thought about that before he dressed Gawain and me up like girls. Now he understands. The others should’ve understood. Percival totally overreacted. He knows how we are.” Arthur rolled his eyes. “This is why Merlin’s an idiot. He makes everything harder.”

“He also has saved your life and served you well. Repeatedly,” Gaius reminded him.

“Yes I do suppose that’s true. I would presume that’s why Gwen let him run off to serve Rodor. He must have feelings for that red haired maid. What’s her name again?” Arthur presumed.

“Britomart.”

“Ah yes. That one. Might be good for Merlin. Having a woman would straighten him out. It would serve him right for nagging me about Gwen and keeping her happy.” Arthur smirked. “I should speak with Rodor about that. If anything, it might get Gawain’s mind back to where it should be.”

“Really? How so?” Gaius of course knew that the knight and the maid had feelings for one another. Still they bantered and drove each other (not to mention everyone around them) crazy in the process. As far as Merlin was concerned, the Physician had definite suspicions that Merlin was interested in a woman at Nemeth’s court. However, in his estimation, said person was definitely not Britomart but the person above her in the hierarchy.

A Princess forbidden to a low born servant such as Merlin….

Before Gaius could respond or Arthur could go on, Leon walked into the chamber and up to the two men. He glanced over his shoulder toward the door repeatedly. Then he bowed. “Forgive me, Arthur. There’s an urgent visitor. She requests to see you.”

“Urgent visitor? Leon, I wasn’t aware of any emissaries. I….” Arthur stopped at the sight of Morgana standing firmly in the door. He could see her arms crossed across her chest and the familiar eyebrow raised. He knew the signs well of her growing impatience from their time growing up together. “Thank you, Leon. You may go.” He looked to Gaius. “Stay.”

“As you wish, Sire.” Gaius observed her approach with care. His eyes never left her awaiting an attack of some kind or another. He wondered why no spell had come forth. “Lady Morgana, I must admit I’m surprised that you’re here. I would have thought….”

“And good morrow to you as well, Gaius.” Her eyebrow raised. Sparks jumped from her emerald eyes. “My new charge mandates good relations with Camelot. As my brother will tell you, being on the throne has its burdens and challenges.”

“All part of being the steward of the realm, Morgana.” Arthur stiffened. “And how goes the transition in Tintagel? Given what your uncle mismanaged, I assume you’ve had your share of difficulty?”

She smiled saccharin-sweetly at the other ruler. “No, Arthur. Actually Queen Annis and King Rodor have been very helpful in providing help for such matters. Their knights proved valuable in rounding up the rebels against my uncle’s rule. The assassin was also dealt with. As efficiently as everything was attended to, I even sent a few healers into your western territories.”

“A few healers? Gaius?” Arthur turned to the older man. 

Gaius nodded. “There were reports of priests and priestesses of the Old Religion. Their efforts did seem to mitigate the plague.”

“Mitigate? That might be one way of putting it, Gaius,” she cut in. “You didn’t tell him about their help. Did you?” She sniffed at him. “You’re so quick to take credit. Then you ignore the source.” She frowned. “Perhaps you might share some credit where it due.”

“Perhaps he might have. I should have been notified, Morgana,” Arthur rebutted. 

“Perhaps in the way Cedric was notified before Merlin led you all to Ealdor? At that point, you accepted the priestesses’ help. Why is that so different? The priestesses are loyal to Avalon not me. Still I directed them to where the need was greatest. Gratitude can move us in that right direction, Arthur,” she reminded him.

Irritation stung at Arthur over her rebuke. “Even the old superstitions have some value, Morgana.” He regarded her again. 

“The goddess guided me to Tintagel’s throne, Arthur. She also saw fit to return your crown to you,” she countered.

“I heard that you lost your magic. Well now, it seems your new mistress slaps your hand hard,” Arthur scoffed. “Father dealt with the Old Religion as it deserved. We have moved beyond that.”

“I may have lost my magic, Arthur, but I am still a priestess. By her will, I seek an end to the enmity between us,” she pointed out. 

“Pity you didn’t have such loyalty to Father, Camelot or me, Morgana. The bloodshed and upheaval would’ve been avoided,” Arthur chided. “Camelot is not about to submit to the Old Religion, the priestesses or any agent of your goddess. Reynald of Mercia reported the old man who killed Father was at Ealdor. Now he’s a dragon lord too.”

“He did help you, Arthur. Besides he was framed by a rogue sorcerer. Emrys is innocent. The true murderer has been dealt with. Uther has been avenged in that regard. The dragon lord led his brethren to save you and the others,” she informed him.

“And that is why I haven’t tried to hunt him or those beasts down yet. If he shows his face within the citadel, I’ll have him arrested on sight. I still recall the Great Dragon’s rampage a decade ago,” Arthur vowed.

“A rampage caused by Uther’s deceptions and cruelty.” She sighed deeply. “Pity, Arthur. I had hoped to at least talk of a truce between Tintagel and Camelot.”

“We can still do so. We don’t seek your lands. Pardon me if I don’t trust you though,” Arthur replied while trying to find a compromise.

“The persecutions though will cease. You speak of equality and tolerance when it suits you, Arthur. Those among your people who follow the inner path deserve the same regard. Already your attitude splinters potential alliances.” Seeing him tense again, she shook her head. “I have promised not to seek your overthrow. I am only informing you. Consider that another gesture of good will. You might consider doing the same and who’s really working behind the scenes.” She glared at Gaius. “And where your loyalties should be. Good day, Brother.” She offered a curt nod before turning on her heel and marching out.

After the door slammed shut, Arthur shook his head. “Unbelievable. After all of the trouble, you’d think she’d learn. Pure foolishness. If Merlin were higher bred, I’d marry them. Let him be with a woman of his own mindset.”

“Perhaps someday, Sire. I’d like to see Merlin if I could. Do you know where he is?” Gaius asked wanting to get away from the matters discussed by Morgana immediately.

“I believe Princess Mithian has him decorating the Grand Hall. Merlin can be such a girl about such things.” Arthur rolled his eyes. “Ever since I broke off our engagement, she’s been getting Merlin into every frilly and flowery thing. Even that garden!” He gulped a draught. “At least Gwen’s happy about the garden.”

“That is a good thing in itself, Sire,” Gaius reminded him. Admittedly Arthur’s complaints about Merlin did chafe a bit. Still Concern continued to worm its way into his conscious thought. Now that the missions were over, he could watch certain matters and Warlocks a little closer. He bowed to Arthur.

“See if you get Merlin to check on something else? You can go. Thank you, Gaius. At least I know where your loyalties are,” Arthur dismissed him.

Gaius nodded before departing from the area. His mind was no longer with the frustrated King. No, he sought answers to other questions concerning Merlin.

Questions whose answers he might not like….


	11. Couples' Romantic Discoveries

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As they work through the festival preparations, Merlin, Mithian, Gawain and Britomart discover things about themselves and their respective relationships.

Chapter 11 [Grand Hall]

For the previous three turns of the hourglass, Mithian had overseen the preparations. She’d rolled up her gown’s sleeves and strung up some garlands herself. She’d also directed Merlin, Britomart and Gawain (who was sent in that direction by Gwen for some mysterious reason) in their efforts in that regard. She made sure that every speck of dirt and dust was off the floor. Her eyes dealt with the wooden pieces’ and floor’s shine. Her nose took a deep whiff of Cleanliness’ pleasant scent. Pride for her friends and love puffed up in her chest.

“I’d say we outdid ourselves, Milady,” Britomart declared. “We’re a great team.” 

“Glad to hear you’re giving someone else credit for a change,” Gawain sassed.

“Even you, you Oaf,” the maid added. “Do you see now? You can do things other than with a weapon or a pint in your hand.”

Gawain sighed. He ground his teeth. “Yak, yak, yak….Hey, Merlin, think she’s trying to tell me something?”

Merlin coughed. He glanced over at Mithian. _I don’t know. Is Britomart saying something?_

His Princess’ eyes sparkled back at her. _Might be._ She smiled. Her heart warmed. She felt so light that she might float off of the ground. “Britomart is complimenting you. Perhaps you might take it as much.”

“Indeed, Princess Mithian,” Britomart concurred.

“Finally!” Gawain exclaimed.

“That is if you act your age. You do see what happens when you work and act like an adult? You are duly complimented, Sir Knight,” Britomart jabbed. Even if her eyes twinkled and her heart skipped a beat, she wasn’t about to resist shoveling out a dose of tough love (or getting the last word in for that matter).

Gawain rubbed his forehead. “I help and get the lecture anyway? Seriously?” He rubbed his forehead to deal with the discomfort starting there. “Maybe a break might be in order?”

“Perhaps.” Mithian conceded a shrug. “Still, Sir Gawain, a well-balanced life is a good life. There is more to it than just battle, wenching and tavern trips. You are a loyal friend both to Merlin and me. I only speak this to your betterment. I care.”

Gawain exhaled with effort. “Yeah well, life isn’t worth living without a bit of enjoyment every now and again. Eh? Hey, Merlin, maybe you might want to jump in, Mate?”

Merlin raised an eyebrow. He knew better than to get between Britomart and his friend. Moreover he wasn’t about to pick an argument with his Princess. “They enjoy life, Gawain. They just know themselves. We all need certain things.”

“Certain things?” Contemplation fired up its furnace burning up a storm within Gawain’s brain. He pondered the point for several heartbeats. Then Sarcasm forced a cough from his chest. “Need certain things.” He smirked and nodded. “I knew it.”

“Know what?” Merlin wondered.

“Yeah. You’ve got the look. You’re showing the same thing that the Princess shows around Gwen. Yup.” Gawain laughed. “You are so whipped.”

“Whipped? What?” Merlin puzzled over his friend’s meaning. Then Realization dawned the full meaning in his mind. He stared. “AM NOT!”

“And they say Denial’s just a river in Norway.” Gawain’s eyes sparkled. Satisfaction twisted his mouth into a wide grin seeming to sprout canary feathers from its sides.

“Have you lost what’s left of your mind?” Britomart snapped.

“Nope. I just know the signs, Brit.” Gawain folded his arms across his chest. “Servant magic boy there is whipped.”

“Gawain!” Merlin glanced around. “You know how stuff echoes around the castle! It is a secret!”

Gawain sighed. While he knew Merlin was right, he hated to give up that point. Still it was only a minor concession. “Whatever. Mith’s still got you so twisted around her finger….”

Mithian snorted. “And how is that? We love each other. Perhaps and I say perhaps if you were to find such a person that could care and guide you, you might understand. And the ‘Nile’ is in Egypt not Norway.”

“Is there a female Hercules to accomplish such a labor or teach you proper geography? The wonders would never cease,” Britomart observed. She slapped the irreverent knight across the side of his head.

“OW! Hey!” Gawain complained.

“My Lady, I believe we need to fetch some more supplies. Perhaps you both can handle things from here?” Britomart supposed. She curtseyed. Then she grabbed Gawain by the hand. Her eyes narrowed much as a mother might discipline a recalcitrant child. “Come along. Now.”

“What supplies? We’re set and…oh yeah…” He coughed again. “More whipping. Got it.” He turned to Merlin. “Just take it like a man. And…oh yeah…do plenty I would do.”

“Gawain, I think you’d better quit while you’re ahead,” Merlin advised.

Britomart yanked the knight out of the chamber and down the passage. Still her efforts didn’t stop his protests from echoing back to their ears in the very way Merlin had mentioned earlier. 

“Princess, I…” Merlin bowed his head. His cheeks flushed from Embarrassment’s prompting. “I just wish he wouldn’t say that.”

Mithian rubbed his arm. “He cares. He knows he can get you to react. Just take it as such.” Her hand gently squeezed his; fingers interlocking with his too. Her eyes met his. “Is it so bad that we learn from each other?”

“I never said that. Princess, as you said, we love each other and….” He stopped himself short. Once again, his cheeks flushed. However, from them, Contentment’s smile broke through Embarrassment’s clouds. His eyes went wide.

Her eyes watered with Joy’s tears; the latter dribbling down her cheeks. “You said it.”

“I did…I really did.” He peered deep into her eyes, through them and into their Link. He dove deeply into Emotion’s fountain. Almost like a child being baptized in a Nazarene service, his skin tingled and heart soared. _Amor’s_ waves warmed. Bliss’ ripples kissed his brow and calmed him. Resistance drained away down an imaginary grate in its side.

_Now you know. Now you understand, Emrys. Camelot may have been your first service. Now though, it is time for deeper understanding. Now you have arrived to your new service. You are home truly now,_ the triple goddess instructed. 

_Home? What? I…_ he hesitated.

_You love Mithian, do you not? It is a simple yes or no,_ she demanded.

_I do. But politics and …._ He bit his lip. Habit stopped his admission short.

_Such things matter little. Man’s practices and achievements are like sandcastles before the unending tide. They rise from the sand. The ocean’s waves batter them. The structures are worn down and eventually fade from view. To think such achievements will last forever are but Vanity’s whims, Emrys. At the base of anything comes the bond between man and woman. Arthur of Camelot needs to look ahead from your bond. So you shall from his as well. Guinevere will guide him. And as for you…_

_I have Princess Mithian,_ he realized.

_The respect for her is a welcome trait, Emrys. Practice and maintain such an example. Humility, even among equals, is truly the hallmark of respect and love. I feel that she has a request for you. I will let her make it rather than tell you myself. Now you understand where True Duty lies. Treasure it and her,_ she clarified before going silent.

Mithian laid her lips upon his cheek laying _Amor’s_ gentle strokes across that canvas. As with him, her heart stirred accordingly. Her feet felt as if they weren’t touching the ground. Her lungs could barely draw breath. The special glow in his eyes held Adoration’s grace….

…special grace for her and her alone….

…as she was now his and his alone….

Her Merlin, his Mithian…..

He embraced her. Forgetting all else, he laid her lips upon hers. He didn’t care about anything or anyone but her. He wanted to feel, touch and hold her. Class didn’t matter. Rank didn’t matter. At that heartbeat, even Camelot or Arthur didn’t matter.

Only Mithian and her future registered on him.

She melted into his embrace. Much as Aladdin would glide on his carpet’s delicate wool over the harsh desert, she floated on the warm breezes fully insulated from Reality’s crushing vices. Her lips pressed back against his returning their offering and extending it for several heartbeats more.

When the moment had passed, he gasped. “Wow.”

“It is amazing. Isn’t it?” Her eyes twinkled. A wide smirk spread across her face. “We know now. Don’t we?”

“Yeah we do. I do. Princess, I know I seem like I don’t want it but….” he started.

“I know you do, Merlin. You were being careful. That’s a good thing,” she assured him. “Still there is something I need.”

He nodded immediately. “Anything.”

“There is the distinction between public and private. At court or, for the most part, here…” She held out her hands to encompass the entire chamber for effect. “…here, we should maintain appearances and distinctions. Here we are still Princess and servant…at least for now. In private, however….” She drew close to him once again. She looked into his eyes. “In private, no titles, no ranks or distinctions.”

“No…?” He wondered what she was getting at.

“In private, please drop the title. I am simply Mithian with you, my Warlock and Prince. You are not my valet here. Here you are my equal, my partner and my love. Father knows and has faith. You should have it too,” she requested.

“Mithian.” His tongue fumbled with the new address for her. Habit hobbled his speech. His brain struggled with the notion. Still his heart assured him that all was well. Her eyes provided a welcome perch for his to alight upon and call home within their wonders. “Mithian…it sounds right.”

“As Merlin has always for me, my Prince.” She kissed him again sealing their pact. “Now come. We shouldn’t linger much longer. Tasks still remain before tonight’s feast.”

“The feast. Right.” He remembered to drop three steps behind as Custom demanded. 

She ground her teeth but understood. She led them from the chamber and into the passage beyond. Still she exulted in their grand moment. Now they stood a step closer.

 

****

Gaius slipped from the shadows. He’d arrived at the chamber several heartbeats earlier. As he drew up to the door, he’d stumbled upon the couple in their ecstatic moment. The Eyebrow arched. Now he had confirmation of the brewing romance. He frowned knowing what he’d have to say. He knew what he’d need to do before Merlin got himself exiled, killed or worse.

He turned and headed back toward the chambers. At some point, there would be a lecture to head off a crisis.

Count on that…..


	12. Banquet Chaos

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Despite the best of intentions, old attitudes ruin the banquet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I've been posting every two days but i couldn't wait to share this part! :) There is also a language advisory here. Seems a certain tyrant doesn't care what he calls people.

Chapter 12 [That Evening]

With _Luna’s_ ascension into the evening sky amidst the stars’ revelry, Camelot shifted away from its work-a-day world. Reverence motivated the populace. While remaining behind locked doors to ward off the All Hallows’ travelers from beyond the Veil, their preparations progressed. Food, candles and other offerings lay ready for the sunrise departures to their respective shrines and graves. 

And in the castle, it was no different save that the remembrance started that evening. It would be memorable but for a mix of reasons…..

 

****

 

[Grand Hall]  
[A/N: The poem in this chapter is my original work. Thanks!]

 

Living up to previously-laid expectations, the castellans and their guests enjoyed themselves. Platters of beef, capon and venison bowed the tables. Servants ensured that golden goblets remained eternally full for their masters and mistresses. The royals and heads of state conversed and toasted to various degrees. Some laughed and joked in good orders. Others smoldered and simply riveted their eyes toward the table.

Merlin and Britomart kept the Nemeth party well fulfilled as far as their needs were concerned.

Still not all people were as lucky….

 

****

 

Elena sat in the far corner of the room. Having recently ascended to the Amazon queen’s throne, she didn’t know many at that table. In fact, being like Gwen and Britomart, she knew more about the art of war and household oversight than diplomatic matters. Her buckskin garb elicited sneers and a few dirty looks from the other guests and even some of Arthur’s knights. She stewed but kept her resolve. Having no maid of her own and refusing to lower any Amazon to that status, she sipped on the provided goblet of wine. She waited for the opportunity to serve herself. _Look at how arrogant they all are. They look down on my sisters and me. How dare they? I’m as good as they are. I…._ She heard a throat clearing. “Aye? I was waiting to serve myself. I….”

“And you should not have to, Queen Elena,” Merlin assured her. “Can you hold your goblet out?” He raised an emerald bottle in his hand. “I’ll fill it for you.”

“Merlin, you should be waiting on King Rodor and Princess Mithian. I appreciate it but….” Elena, despite being a warrior, betrayed some emotion on her face. She held the goblet out. “Thank you once again.”

“My pleasure.” He filled her goblet. “I have a request from King Rodor and Princess Mithian for you as well, Your Highness. They’d appreciate it if you’d take the empty seat by them.”

“Will King Arthur mind? I know he had the arrangements made,” Elena doubted.

“He and Queen Guinevere would want you to feel valued.” Merlin looked around. “There should have been someone assigned to you. What is this?”

“She’s a lowly Amazon bitch. And who are you to question your master, BOY?” Meleagant snapped from two places down. He slammed his goblet on the table hard. “FILL IT NOW!”

Merlin nodded. As much as the Red Knight repulsed him, he’d learned years before how to deal with such people. He understood the Greater Good. Diplomacy demanded such things. He filled the goblet.

“At least you know your place in that regard, you Insolent Bug!” The hulking Cawdorian leered at Mithian. “I’ll take that seat. I’ll get the fossil to give her to me. That wench would warm my bed well enough. Least I’ll keep a gag on her. She can’t shut up.”

Merlin’s eyes narrowed. Anger blazed through his heart. _She isn’t a piece of meat. How can he talk like that!_ He exhaled sharply.

Meleagant waited until Merlin started past him. Then he jutted his chair out suddenly hitting Merlin without warning.

Merlin hit the wall. The wine spilled all over himself. He rubbed his side.

Mithian tensed. She started to get up but Rodor grabbed her arm. He shook his head at her.

_What? Why?_ She sat back down. Her eyes glared into the Red Knight’s.

“Know your place, BOY! Don’t you look at me!” Meleagant spat. He glared at the sprawled out servant and scoffed.

“Know yours, Ingrate!” Elena retorted. She stood and helped Merlin up. “Are you all right, Merlin?”

“I’m fine. These robes are stained but I’ll manage,” Merlin replied. “Perhaps you might want to follow me, Queen Elena?”

“That seat’s mine!” Meleagant insisted. He stood. His hand rested on his sword’s scabbard.

By now, the music had stopped. The other guests had ceased their conversations. They turned toward the brewing confrontation.

Arthur stood from where he sat at the high table. His eyes blazed blue fire. “Meleagant, don’t even consider drawing a weapon at this table.”

“Perhaps you might want to tell these servants about their place, Arthur. Your father would never tolerate that behavior!” Melagant retorted. Insolence and Intolerance dripped from his tone. 

Arthur stood firm. He exhaled to calm himself. “He wouldn’t allow you to make such a scene either, Meleagant. Do not presume to insult anyone here.”

Meleagant curled his lip. “If you had a real Queen, I might listen! I see a beggar boy among your knights! He’s little better….”

Gawain stiffened in his place. Steam erupted from his ears. His eyes narrowed. His mouth curled up like it had eaten a prune. 

Arthur shook his head at his knight. “Apologize to Queen Guinevere now! As for my knights, if you care to cross swords with any of them, they’d make you smart for it.”

“Not likely. Like the one whose father ran in battle? And you made him a knight? You’re a fraud!” Meleagant drew his sword. 

Anger blinded Gawain. He forgot where he was. He jumped out of his seat. “HE DIDN’T RUN! YOUR UNCLE DID! MY MOTHER’S DEAD BECAUSE OF THAT PIECE OF CRAP!”

All of the eyes turned toward the usually irreverent knight. As if they’d just heard the latest juicy gossip in the churchyard, every ear in the chamber perked up.

“Gawain, stand down!” Arthur ordered.

“Tell Red Boy to do that first!” Gawain fired back. His eyes met Meleagant’s. “This is about Samhain and family. Right? WELL MY FATHER HAD HIS GRANDFATHER’S BACK! HE DIED PROTECTING HIS KING! BUT NOOO…..UNCLE AETHELWALD LIED! HE HAD MOM AND ME BOOTED OFF THE ESTATE! HE GOT THE THRONE. HE STOLE IT! YOU, RED, STOLE IT!”

“You create such fiction! Perhaps you should be the Bard. That’s all you’re good for, Beggar Boy,” Meleagant scoffed. “You will face me then!”

“Meleagant! Gawain! ENOUGH!” Arthur spat.

“Tell him that!” Gawain complained. “This is supposed to be about remembering dead ancestors. Right? Well my parents are dead! I survived and learned to fight! ALL RIGHT?” He shook his head. “And if you want to face me, FINE!”

Leon grabbed Gawain. “You heard Arthur. Gawain, stand down. We….”

“WHATEVER!” Gawain shook Leon off. “Your Grandpa was a great King, Red. What in bloody blazes happened? You beat up on the servants? What a man!” Then he stalked toward the door. “Someday, Your Queasiness, we will meet. Pity you!” With that, he stalked out of the room not bowing to anyone in the process. Frankly he didn’t care. Pain seared at him. _Memoria_ reminded him of his mother’s suffering.

“Arthur, you WILL apologize! I will have his head!” Meleagant demanded.

“Meleagant, stop!” Percival jumped in. “We are guests here! King Arthur should be shown respect!”

“Careful, Percival. I could declare war on Mercia if I so choose! I may even get a few more women for my brothel in the process! Perhaps the Maid would like to speak to that?” Meleagant threatened.

“Meleagant! ENOUGH!” Arthur brought his fist down on the table in front of him. Everything on its surface shook and threatened to spill in its wake. His face flushed bright red. “This night is supposed to be about honoring the dead! Instead old wounds are open. I won’t have that! Percival is right. We should respect each other.”

“Says the one who’s here because of his father’s crusade against the Old Religion,” Meleagant groused. “I only spoke the truth about your pretty boy. Seems he can’t take it.”

“Some of us who have been denied our proper places understand such things,” Morgana cut in. “I’ve come to realize that rattling the saber can cut the wielder as well as a potential victim. Do take care.” Menace glinted in her dark eyes.

Meleagant sniffed. “Says the uppity bitch who couldn’t hold onto that throne there. Rumor has it that you’ve lost your magic as well. So you’re a pathetic shadow of what you once were.”

Morgana ground her teeth. Much as Arthur had observed previously, Meleagant’s words and Pride’s old scars seared her. Still, despite the losses and setbacks, she was a survivor. 

“So it seems something does trouble you? Perhaps you’re cast off? Your own brother takes your place and you can’t take it!” Meleagant baited.

“The goddess reached an arrangement. Arthur can have his throne. I have mine.” Annoyance burned brighter in her eyes. Fun was fun but the lumbering buffoon’s barbs gashed too closely to the bone by now. “I have two fathers, Meleagant. Besides having to endure Uther’s raping of my mother, Gorlois left a legacy for me. I can thank him for that. As long as Tolerance rules in the lands around Tintagel, I am content for there to be peace.” She raised her goblet. “If I may, Arthur, propose a toast to set this feast back on course?”

Arthur rolled his eyes. Irony slapped him in the head. Yet Opportunity offered a personal coup of sorts especially given some of his own diplomatic _faux-pas_ recently. “Please, Morgana. The floor is yours.”

“Thank you.” She raised her goblet a little higher. “We all have our traditions and memories. As we come together, we recall how our ancestors met. Sometimes they worked together. Sometimes they clashed. Benefits and pain both emerged from those contacts. The seeds for our current state were laid within them. Tonight we are here to honor those ancestors, to celebrate in their achievements and to learn from their mistakes. We remember and mourn those who fell in the Great Purge. We should forgive or perhaps try to move in that direction. I am here for such a purpose. Perhaps we all should be? To our ancestors, their achievements, our past deeds and the future then.”

Silence muffled the entire chamber. People stared at Morgana given her previous actions. Disbelief stifled any thinking either way for several heartbeats.

Elena raised a goblet. “Hear! Hear!”

“As say I!” Percival added.

“And Nemeth as well!” Rodor chimed in with his goblet raised as well.

“HUZZAH! HUZZAH!” the combined voice cheered; echoing off of the chamber’s walls and into the rest of the castle proper.

Gwen nodded toward her sister-in-law. Despite recent injuries and worse, she glimpsed her former mistress’ manner and tone in Tintagel’s current Queen. She tipped her own goblet toward the other woman. Her eyes turned to Arthur.

“As say we all. Thank you, Morgana, for a most worthy toast on this night.” Arthur raised his own goblet. “I would add my own desire to remember and try to live together. TO THAT!”

“HEAR! HEAR!” Just about everyone chimed in and guzzled from the goblet. In such ways, they sought to wash away Discontent’s vile taste and set Harmony back on its natural course.

Arthur allowed a few heartbeats to let the feelings calm a bit. Then he banged a fork against the side of his goblet. “Morgana’s sentiments lead in to something else. King Rodor?”

Rodor exchanged glances with Mithian. His eyes also briefly met with Merlin’s. Then he announced, “Thank you, King Arthur. I wish to add to the sentiments expressed here. Recently we discovered that one of our servants has a hidden talent. He is a poet and scribe. One never knows what one will find mucking out the stables. Now do they?” He let his eyes meet Arthur’s so as to send his message. Then he pressed on. “We at Whitgate have enjoyed a few of his recent creations. Tonight I give you Peter, our court’s bard!” He looked to Peter and nodded.

Peter rose hesitantly. Anxiety beat against his stomach’s sides. He ground his teeth. “Thank you, Sire. Good Lords and Ladies, thank you too. I will do my best.”

“Just relax,” Gwen coaxed allowing the anxious scribe a smile.

“Thank you. Here goes…..

Remembrances  
Peter of Marlsborough 

Gathered we are  
In august hall  
Dive we into _Memoria’s_ jar  
Recall we heroes tall 

Emotions tense  
Perspective differs  
Give out praise or recompense  
From barbs in Judgment’s quivers 

Discord we’ve had  
But Virtue we have too  
Good as well as Bad  
Mood Upbeat or Blue 

Life’s journey has care  
Obstacles us slow  
To go astray they us dare  
To go against the flow 

Still our forebearers  
Their ways they made  
Staving off the terrors  
Lurking in Light or Shade 

List I can  
Deeds of Great Renown  
As read I from scribes’ hand  
Of harvest from past sown 

Differ we may  
On those figures past  
For Insight we pray  
And Legacy to last 

Collaboration is key  
Share old love  
Friendships give relief  
Like hand to glove 

Pain and Anger  
Burn at us they do  
Mindful of danger  
And decisions past rued 

Ill Feelings and grudges  
Fester they can  
Not easily away budged  
Fixing course of our land 

Celebrate we do  
Learn we must  
Forge alliances new  
Alongside valued trust…” 

 

Peter bowed his head. He peered around the chamber. Anxiety ate at him. He trembled ever so slightly. Especially given Hate’s burning in that place, he remained unsure. He cleared his throat. “King Arthur, Queen Guinevere, Sire, thank you.”

Arthur nodded. He measured the poet’s words. A nod came from his head in tacit reply.

Gwen stood. Her eyes sparkled. A big grin spread across her face. “King Rodor, you were right! Peter, you are a man of many skills. When I needed a friend, you greeted me in the stable. You’ve been warm and kind. That is truly a valuable gift indeed. Thank you.”

“Y…you’re welcome, Your Highness. I’m glad you like it,” Peter expressed.

“Well it’s weak and naïve,” Meleagant complained. He slurped down the rest of his wine. “Enough!” He got up. “I’ll go and find Beggar Boy.”

Arthur got up and stepped down from the high table. He’d had enough of the Red King’s attitude frankly. “Try it and find yourself locked in your chamber, Meleagant.”

“You and who’s group of knights, Pendragon? Yours?” Meleagant scoffed. 

“You’d be surprised by our numbers. You are one. We are many. As Peter bade, we are allied,” Percival declared. 

“And there would be more from Gaul. My father still remembers the last time, King Meleagant,” Bors shot in.

“I beat your father like a drum, Boy! I’d like nothing better than to send you back in a bag of ash!” Meleagant discounted. “Any of you! All of you!”

“Try, you Pig,” Elena dared. Even if he towered over her by a head and a half, the Amazon Queen stood her ground. “Queen Radigund’s blood is on your hands. When is enough enough, Butcher? How much blood has to be spilled?”

“As much as I thirst for.” Meleagant sniggered. “Rodor, you know I want.”

“Princess Mithian is committed. There will be no further negotiations for her hand,” Rodor declined. “Be careful. As Queen Morgana herself advised you, the blade can cut you as well as someone else. Listen well to my poet. His advice offers a great deal.”

“One day, I’ll throw that ‘advice’ back in your faces. Just wait.” Meleagant spat on the chamber floor. Then he stalked out.

Arthur frowned. “Leon, find Gawain. I don’t want him alone. Meleagant and he both want blood.”

“Aye, Sire.” Leon bowed. Then he signaled for the other knights to follow him out of the door.

Mithian rose. While her father had not announced Merlin’s identity for all to know, he’d made her status clear for all. She felt exposed…almost naked really. For the first time, she understood how Merlin felt in that regard. She cleared her throat. “I’d like to retire for the evening, Sire.” 

Rodor nodded. “Yes. It has been a most eventful time indeed. Pity. Still we have had some wonderful sentiments.” He walked over to Elena. “I will expect you in our chambers tomorrow? I believe we have an alliance to forge.”

“We do indeed,” Elena concurred. She shook his hand. “I will be there as soon as I finish with King Percival and Queen Blancheflor.”

“That suits us well. My thanks to you and the Amazons,” Rodor accepted adding a nod to respect her. “Merlin, perhaps we might need our chambers refreshed before we sleep?”

“Right away, Your Highness,” Merlin agreed. He bowed to Arthur and Gwen. Then he scurried out ahead of the Nemeth party.

Seemed it had been quite an eventful evening indeed. Eventful on many fronts…..


	13. Gawain Attracts a Crowd

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After storming out of the banquet, Gawain goes to the Rising Sun to drink off his anger. Problem is Meleagant's goons aren't going to let him. On the other hand, Gawain's friends have appointed a reception committee for said goon squad.....

Chapter 13 [Rising Sun Tavern—A Quarter Turn of the Hourglass Prior]

Even as the celebration struggled to keep its footing, a few more people congregated around the esteemed tavern. The torches flickered through its windows. A few dedicated regulars braved that most spiritually hazardous night of the year for their favorite brew. Their singing (albeit off key), laughter and banter could be heard several buildings away. 

Despite Joy’s presence in that place rather than in the castle, certain elements loomed in the darkness outside. Seemed not everyone was a party person….

 

****

 

A half dozen men slithered through the stygian shadows. Their chain mail glinted in _Luna’s_ and the stars’ light overhead. Due to the aforementioned concern of potential spiritual threats, the group had an almost free access between the citadel and the tavern. All they had to do was keep away from the sentries’ line of sight atop the walls. While going slower than perhaps they might have, they reached their place in a half of a turn of the hourglass.

Their target, Sir Gawain, had stormed out of the citadel. Anger and Indignation blinded him. Pain drove him toward the keg and pint. He’d had his fill of Meleagant’s verbal barbs and insults. He couldn’t deal with Arthur allowing Merlin to take garbage (again). On the night where ancestors were supposed to be honored, his father was disparaged unjustly and again. He hoped that his mates would pick his spirits up.

One particularly muscled knight cracked his knuckles. Douglas of Rawnesborough brooded over the overrated Camelot knights’ reputation. While Arthur and his men paraded around Britannia and received renown, Hate and Jealousy dogged Cawdor’s forces. The Camelot warriors more often than not got the benefit of popular opinion. Their aggression tolerated by their friends and neighbors.

After Uther’s aggression, how could Meleagant be hated so much?

Douglas coughed. He looked to his comrades. “We’ll go in. Make sure the pretty boy doesn’t get out. The King wants him dead. Make sure!” He drew his sword.

Menace to them, however, didn’t allow for their best laid plan any farther. A low growl drove chills up their spines.

“Certainly you all should be at the citadel at this hour, _Sirrahs_?” Britomart stepped into the torchlight. “Sir Douglas, your King could use your goodly company.”

“You think so? Since when does the maid tell a knight his affairs?” Douglas grinned. “Boys, bring ‘er with us. She’ll make some fun ‘fore….”

She shook her head. “Your Highness! Perhaps you’d all like to step out and be seen?”

“With pleasure.” Percival stepped into view. His sword already at the ready glinted in the faint torchlight all around. “I am already in a foul mood. Do not make your King’s errors in judgment worse. Step away and return with us. All will be overlooked.”

“Listen to him,” Ywain advised. “Sir Gawain has suffered enough abuse. He’d hand you back your pride badly mangled if you test him. That is if we let you through to him.”

_Malodius_ roared again behind the marauding Cawdorians. Emerald eyes glowed in the shadows. Claws fully extended from their paws. Anticipation glinted off of his fangs and with twitches of his tail.

“Now it is a maid’s duty to clean. Is it not?” She drew her sword slowly. She beckoned Douglas forward. “If you wish to harm Sir Gawain further, come then. Meet me. I believe though, you find us more than a match.” She swung the sword about in the air in front of her. Her eyes met Douglas’. “Take your men and return.”

Douglas charged. His sword streaked through the flickering firelight toward its target.

She met his steel expertly with her own. Moreover she shoved him back. She snorted. “Your loss. For my Lady and Good Knight then! FORWARD!” She swiped with her own weapon cutting his exposed forearm. “HA! And with that, Princess Mithian’s and Merlin’s honor is avenged!” Blood dripped from her blade. Purpose sparked in her eyes. 

“That, Sir Douglas, is first blood,” Percival observed. “Do not have your men’s blood on your hands.”

The Cawdorians charged mindlessly. They knew what Meleagant would do if they backed down in that sense. They met the allies’ blades with their own seeking their own advantage.

For their part, Percival and the Nemethians met the wave and pressed back. In the case of a certain magical lion, his claws began a deadly ballet of their own upon the marauders’ flesh. 

And so the fight began…..

 

****

 

[Inside of the Tavern]

Gawain stewed at a corner table. Sorrow weighed on his heart. Outrage burned in his stomach. A dark frown weighed on his face. He took a deep gulp from a pint and set it down on the chipped and worn table. The old grudge took its pound of flesh anew. _Can’t believe that crap! I mean really?_ He tapped his fingers.

Around him, the usual gang of revelers gave him his space and then some. They clearly picked up on the dark clouds and acidic vibes around him. Consequently they massed toward the room’s other side and the bar. They still talked and laughed. Still such activities remained muted and subdued. Their eyes would drift ever so occasionally in his direction. Paranoia and Fear kept them all on high alert. They knew he wore a comic mask. They understood he was holding something back.

That night could be the one where he’d blow his top….

_Yeah whatever! Be that way!_ Gawain gulped down another draught. His attention remained riveted to Memoria’s reminders. He could never forget his mother’s tears as she and he were kicked out of their home. He still felt the fists from that reeve, Hengst, beating their cruel marks into his face and back. He could feel his clothes soaking from the incessant rains. His mother’s increasingly rasping cough stung in his ears. His fingers could feel the mud caked on them. Tears still stung in his eyes; the image of his mother’s grave wavering in the storm.

He bowed his head. He slapped the table. Disgust ate at him.

The tavern keeper glanced out the door. He stared wide eyed and stiffened at something. Then he hustled over toward the distraught knight. “Hey! Hey, Sir Gawain!”

“Rulfstan, I told you I wanted to be left alone. What part of that didn’t you get? And…” Gawain shook his head. “Now what?”

“There are guys hanging around outside. This wouldn’t have anything to do with you. Would it? Look. I don’t want any trouble!” Rulfstan told him.

Gawain shook his head. He could well imagine that Meleagant sent his goons to beat him into gruel. “I’ll meet ‘em outside.” He got up. His eyes glinted. He flexed his fingers. 

Just before he got there, a monstrous roar threatened to deafen the people inside. The clanging of swords glinted iron on iron. The sound of fists landing against flesh reached his ears.

“Now what?” Gawain glanced around himself. The other customers had ducked behind the bar or for whatever cover they could find on short notice. Not another soul was in clear sight. “My heroes.” He rolled his eyes. He drew his sword slowly and took a step forward. “Guess if you want to get something done, do it yourself.” He grabbed an abandoned pint and guzzled it down. “Last one for the road…fight…whatever.” He stalked out the door with his blade out and ready for anything.

Six knights in chain mail lay strewn out in front of the tavern. Some lay moaning. One grabbed his side where large gashes had torn through his armor, clothes and skin. Most though were unconscious.

In the midst of the area, Britomart bellowed something at a blonde haired Adonis type. Her eyes flashed green. She backhanded his semi-conscious face trying to get other information before he blacked out entirely. She’d point at _Malodius_ who licked the blood from his paws.

“You just can’t stop stirring things up. Can you, Gawain?” Ywain supposed from where he and Percival watched the unconscious soldiers. 

“What can I say? Big Red so loves me. He and I go way back. Geez. Get you all some fun and you live down to your name, Whine, whine, whine,” Gawain retorted without missing a beat. 

“That was more than fun even for you,” Percival disagreed. “Meleagant wants you dead.”

“Really? I want his arse on my wall too, Percy,” Gawain shot back. By now, the humor had drained from his voice. Fire and steel lowered his tone. “I want a piece of him, Brit.”

“Get back inside. You’re drunk,” she instructed without even looking at him. 

Gawain coughed. “I handle my stuff better than…”

“I SAID I HAVE IT!” She recoiled as the knight in question spat in her face. She delivered a right cross to his nose. Then she dropped the Cawdorian to the ground like a bad habit. “What is with you? Meleagant threatens you. You just hang out as if to say ‘beat me’. Do you have a death wish?”

“It’s Gawain. What do you think?” Percival clued her in. He inspected his former brother-in-arms. “You can thank us later.”

“Send me the bill, Percy. I’ll get the boots when I’m ready,” Gawain retorted flatly. He smacked the tavern’s wooden wall. “Bloody blazes! I….”

“Threaten my mistress, will they?” Britomart dusted herself off. She grimaced at the tears in her dress. A few cuts and bruises purpled her face and arms. 

“And me too. Hello! I wanted my part of arse too! I…I….” Gawain slumped down against the wall. He quivered and shook.

“Now what?” Ywain asked.

She turned Gawain’s head toward her. She saw his eyes glaze over. She noted the twitching and shivers. She grimaced at the sour ale breath. She grabbed onto him. “You’re all right! You hear me? Don’t quit on me, you Cabbage Head! COME ON!”

“Let get him to Master Gaius. He can tell us more,” Percival urged.

“Sounds good to me.” Ywain picked up Gawain’s feet. He wrinkled his nose at the odor even through the boots. “He really needs a bath too.”

“Good luck on that,” Percival told them.

“Leave that to me. Now come on,” Britomart directed while leading them back toward the castle proper.


	14. Assessing Merlin's Situation (Again)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Following the banquet, Merlin, Mithian and Rodor are back in her chamber. Merlin collapses. Freya comes in and further discussion ensues....

Chapter 14 [Mithian’s Chamber]

Merlin paced about the chamber. He paled at his soiled robes. Anger burned over Meleagant’s attitude. He couldn’t believe that anyone would treat his Princess like property. His side still ached from where he’d hit the wall. Even with the numbing spell, the wound throbbed like a drunken drummer on the battlefield. Disbelief washed over him due to Arthur’s uncharacteristic lack of control and allowing the ceremony to fall apart. It’s too bad. Peter had such a nice poem. He rubbed the injured side.

The door opened allowing Mithian and Rodor to enter the area. They kept up their conversation even as two Nemethian knights shut them all in. He made his way toward the desk and its wooden chair. She hustled over to the Warlock’s side.

“Merlin, I thought Britomart told you to lie down,” she lectured. She could clear see how he favored his right side. Immediately she snaked his arm over her shoulders and helped him toward her bed. “Now please.”

“Have to honor your father, Princess….” Seeing her eyebrow raise at his use of her title, he grimaced. “We’re with your father. I…won’t…take it for granted. I….” A sharp pain cut through his side. Still he struggled to bow nearly collapsing in the process.

“Your reverence and respect honor me on their own, Merlin.” Rodor motioned toward the bed. “Now do as she says. Do I need to make it a royal command?”

“N…No, Your Highness.” Merlin gasped. He exhaled in small bursts. Pain’s mini-gasps escaped his lips as he relented. Following her direction, he slumped onto the bed. “Should…should be serving you.”

“That’s out there for Arthur. There you’re a servant. Here you’re not.” She pulled his boots off and eased the sheets and blanket over him. “Relax. Master Gaius will be here soon enough.” She moved stiffly; his emotions and wounds stabbing at her through the Link. “Why didn’t you leave? Arthur would’ve understood. How did you keep going? Your pain…it’s….” She blinked back her tears.

_I used a spell to keep myself going. I wasn’t about to leave you with Meleagant,_ Merlin insisted telepathically.

_And what would you have done? You will not expose yourself for me!_ she retorted.

_I don’t care. You’re important. I… With that,_ Merlin slumped into unconsciousness.

“Merlin? MERLIN!” Panic seized her in its vice. She rubbed his shoulder. “Please! Stay with us!” She forced herself not to shake him or do anything else to make his wounds worse than they already were. 

Rodor hustled to the door. He flung it open. “Sir Harold! Fetch Master Gaius from his chamber! Quickly!”

“Yes, Sire!” Harold rushed off as fast as he could manage.

Rodor shut the door again. He rubbed his forehead. “Arthur and I will have words about this. I fail to understand how he did nothing. This is intolerable. I will not let it stand!”

“Merlin didn’t do anything but invite Queen Elena to sit with us. Why did that butcher do that? WHY?” she demanded.

“He lives to provoke conflict, Mithian. Merlin played his part. Once more, his loyalty is commendable. I meant what I said.” Rodor placed his hand on her shoulder. “You’re committed now. It is just a matter of timing and diplomacy. Because he was injured in our service, I will have him stay here with us.”

She nodded. “Thank you, Father.” She straightened Merlin’s hair. “I won’t have you looking like some undignified prat, my Prince.” She laid a kiss on his forehead.

At that moment, mists spilled from the corner. They formed into a pillar and then a doorway. From them, Freya walked briskly into the area. She only allowed the two royals to see a grim poker face. Underneath it all, however, she panicked every bit as much as Mithian did. “What did he do to you, Merlin?” She pulled the covers back. With a single motion, she yanked his top up to expose the badly bruised area. She touched the area feeling if there were any bumps or anything protruding through the skin. “Nothing broken. Thank the goddess for that.” She touched the spot with her hand. _“Slànachadh!”_

Her hand glowed. A brilliant white glow dazzled the two royals. The energies flowed into Merlin’s side. The damage closed the small cracks in the rib in question. The bruising faded ever so slightly. Merlin wheezed.

Mithian’s breath caught in her throat. Worry burned at her. She peered closer right behind Freya’s shoulder. She could feel his improvement through the Link. Still she needed to know more. “Is he…?”

“He needs rest.” She tore a strip from Merlin’s servant garb. She wrapped it around her torso several times. Then she tied it off just over his stomach. “That should do it. Princess, he’s not to move.”

“You might need to tie him down. He won’t listen,” Mithian pointed out.

“Don’t I know it?” Freya frowned. She rolled her eyes fully knowing that Mithian had Merlin pegged. “Perhaps Arthur and Guinevere would assign another servant to you?”

“Britomart and Sarah can handle our affairs, Priestess Freya. Still thank you,” Rodor assured her. “I will speak with King Arthur about this. Merlin will stay there. Meantime, Mithian, you should stay in another chamber.”

“Father, someone should stay with him. I can do that,” Mithian insisted.

“I know you can. It’s not about trust. Still it’s about appearances. We can have Master Gaius stay with him,” Rodor pointed out.

Mithian bit her lip. She wanted to be on hand to take care of Merlin. Still part of her realized that her father and Freya were right. “If you can stay with him, I’d be grateful, Priestess Freya. I just don’t want you having trouble. Camelot still remains hostile to you and yours.”

“So Nimue tells me. I recall all too well how the attitudes are here as well,” Freya agreed. “Of course. I would stay with him. You should let Queen Guinevere know. She will help us.”

“I will do so,” Rodor agreed. “My thanks as well.”

Freya nodded. She remained resolute. Still she felt glad to have a continued role where Merlin was concerned. _At least Mithian trusts me. I can be her friend. And, Merlin, I can help protect you as well._

In such ways, even an injury could help shape things….


	15. Diagnoses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gaius analyzes the situation. Looks in on Gawain. Prepares to treat Merlin.

Chapter 15 [Physicians’ Chambers]

Gaius shuffled into his chamber. Concern hung over him like a heavy fog. His feelings remained mixed. He slowly eased the heavy oak door closed. His gait slowed; Exhaustion weighed on his steps. He managed to coax himself onto the bench by his work table. His breathing eased. Still his mind spun over recent events.

On the one hand, several things troubled him. Meleagant had not lost any of his edge. Self-Entitlement and Anger drove the Cawdorian ruler to pick fights and stir the pot. Queens Elena, Morgana and Merlin were drawn into such matters over little things. Gawain’s abrupt departure, while justified, had ruffled feathers. Arthur’s lack of active engagement in the matter disturbed him. While he understood the need to not spoil Samhain or the celebration, he also didn’t understand why Arthur didn’t let the knights deal with Meleagant. Merlin’s injury was no accident. Neither was the claim on Mithian or the implied threats toward Mercia, Nemeth and the Amazons for that matter. 

No, something was amiss where Arthur was concerned…..

On the other hand, however, there’d been plenty of positives as well. Even if Arthur didn’t act, Morgana’s, Percival’s, Elena’s, Rodor’s and even Gawain’s responses rebuffed Meleagant’s aggression. Restraint had kept Merlin from an ill-advised spell or worse. Peter’s poem underscored Unity’s sentiment throughout the chamber. Even with the trouble, the seeds for Albion itself had been sown…perhaps the prophecy itself might come true.

He filled his wooden cup with water. A troubled sip crossed his lips. He’d hoped that Merlin would’ve been back there. He wondered where Gawain had wandered off to. He observed Blancheflor looking toward the town square through the window. He sensed Trouble’s brew heating up and frothing on its edges. The potential boiling over scared him to say the least.

A pounding on his door jarred him from his reverie.

“Gaius! Gaius, open up!” Percival called through the door. 

_Merlin? Could this be about him?_ He ambled over as quickly as he could manage. He pulled the door open to find Ywain, Percival and Britomart standing next to an unconscious Gawain. The latter twitched and spasmed jerking about on the granite much as a fish would on dry land. He remembered to bow to the Mercian King. “King Percival, what’s going on?”

“We found Meleagant’s knights about to ambush Gawain. We dealt with them,” Percival explained. “Is there some place we can put him?”

“Yes! Yes! Put him on the cot. You know where it is,” Gaius indicated. He observed Gawain’s suffering. He could clearly see Britomart’s bruises and her intense watch over the prone knight. “Was this from the fight then?”

“They never laid a hand on him, Master Gaius,” she insisted. “We three along with _Malodius_ saw to that.”

“There were six of them. Pity them,” Ywain clarified. “We discouraged them from making trouble in the Rising Sun.”

“Did you now?” That notion raised the Eyebrow. The elderly physician could well imagine the full out brawl that took place. “And where are the Cawdorians now?”

“Leon and the knights have them in custody. The lion’s with them as well,” Percival reported. He inspected Gawain. “Gaius, Gawain collapsed on his own. He started yelling like he did at the feast. Then he collapsed.”

“He’s traumatized. Meleagant’s insults brought it to the surface,” she assessed. “This has been coming on since Ealdor, Master Gaius.” She shook her head. “I saw him earlier. He would barely look at anyone as our procession came in. He wasn’t his usual abrupt and uncouth self.’ She shook her head. “He seemed almost distant.”

“I noticed it too. The sight of Meleagant and the Cawdorians brought what happened with his parents to the surface, I imagine.” Gaius poured some water into a small container. Then he set it on a harness over a small flame. “A tea made with Valerian root should calm his anxiety.” He sighed. “Meleagant knew exactly what he was doing. He deliberately provoked Gawain in front of everyone.” He sighed. “I am glad you went after him although if something had happened to you, Your Highness, there would’ve been more trouble.”

“Crown or not, Gawain is our friend, Gaius. Arthur taught me that much. We are still a bigger community. Meleagant may be a threat on Mercia’s western border. Queen Elena will speak with Blancheflor and me in the morning. With luck, we’ll have a treaty to take back to our kingdoms. Still, Mercia and the Amazons will stand together against Cawdor. As much as I do not wish it, we will need to speak with Morgana as well,” Percival explained. He looked at Gawain once again. “I need to return to my chamber. Blancheflor will want word of this. Do let me know if there’s anything we can do.”

“I shall. Thank you.” Gaius bowed to Percival. “You didn’t see where Merlin was taken to, did you?”

“If he’s not here, I imagine he’s with King Rodor and Princess Mithian,” Ywain guessed. “Merlin did hit that wall hard. I don’t know how he kept his duties up after that.”

“I do. He’s too stubborn for his own good,” Percival declared. “If you need help tracking Merlin down, let us know. Good night.” With that, he left the chamber.

Gaius set his jaw. He could well imagine Merlin casting some sort of pain-numbing spell. Duty would demand the Warlock would carry on to please Arthur, Rodor and Mithian. He wouldn’t back down to Meleagant. In those regards, Merlin would never change. “I’ll need to go up there and see to him as well.” He set a small pinch of ground Valerian root into the cup. Then he filled the cup with steaming water. “This should do it.” He brought the cup over to Gawain’s side.

“Can that calm him?” Ywain asked.

She nodded. “Valerian is best for something like this. That way Sir Gawain can sleep. Still we need to help him deal with his pain. He has to be so stubborn!” She frowned. Her eyes narrowed. Then she gently raised the unconscious man’s head. “Ready?”

Gaius put the teacup to Gawain’s lips. He eased the liquid down the other’s mouth and throat. “That should do it. Ease him back onto the pillow. He should sleep now.” He put the cup down on the work bench. Then he extinguished the flame. “If you can watch over him, I’ll see to Merlin.”

She nodded. “I’m sure Sir Ywain and I can do just that. If something comes up, I’ll be ready. Granted I’m not Master Wyngate or you but….”

“I’m sure you’ll do just fine, Britomart. Thank you.” Gaius smiled at her to reassure her. “Sir Ywain, if anything happens, I’ll be upstairs. Then I’ll return right away.” With that, he made his way out of the chamber and toward the passage.

“Let’s hope King Rodor and Princess Mithian could get Merlin stabilized. We’ve had enough madness for one evening,” Ywain insisted.

She nodded numbly. Her hand straightened Gawain’s hair. She coughed. “You can never keep yourself neat or tidy. Can you?” She shook her head. “Well you’ll sleep soundly now. It’ll be all right.” She patted his shoulder and then took her seat at his side. “Perhaps you might want to check on _Malodius_? Then you can come right back?”

Ywain wanted to argue. Then he conceded to himself that the lion could use a friend as well especially under the circumstances. “I’ll do just that. It’ll be all right, Britomart. Have faith.” With that, he rushed out of the chamber shutting the door behind himself.

She coughed again. “I hope so. Sometimes I wonder if we’ll be all right ever again.” She sipped from a cup of water at her side. Then she resumed the vigil at hand….


	16. Morgana Speaks to Mithian

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mithian stews over what happened to Merlin. Comes to a decision. Morgana comes to the chamber. They talk about things.

Chapter 16   
[Mithian’s Bedchamber]

Despite the increasingly late hour and her father’s wishes, Mithian sat by Merlin’s bedside. On the nightstand between them, an empty cup and a quarter-full bowl of chicken broth sat at least partially used. She wet a rag and dabbed his forehead and cheeks. Otherwise she watched over him.

The grains of the hourglass seemed to slow so as to drop one by one…heartbeat by heartbeat…..

_Why didn’t Arthur do anything?_ Frustration and Indignation burned inside in her heart. She understood well how Diplomacy dictated how such things worked. Still once Meleagant had insulted Elena, caused Gawain’s breakdown and assaulted Merlin, that should have merited a response stronger than a few ‘cease and desists’. _Yes Meleagant carries the war threat with him. The bloody bully doesn’t care. And to think he lusts after me?_ Revulsion threatened to make her throw up. She shuddered. _Well Father told him, I am committed. Arthur doesn’t care about Merlin as he should._ She kissed his forehead. _Well I do. As soon as we can get you out of here without a war, Merlin, I will do it._

A knock came from the door.

_Now who?_ She walked toward it. She cracked it to find Morgana waiting outside. “Queen Morgana.” She forced herself to offer a polite royal nod. “What can I do for you?”

“Word has it that Merlin is in here. How is he?” Morgana asked.

Mithian raised an eyebrow. She knew well of Gossip’s rapid pace of speaking to many ears at once. Still she hadn’t expected the news to circulate that fast. “He is my service. As such, I am caring for him.”

“As a servant or lover?” Morgana coughed. Seeing the Princess narrowing her eyes, she put her hands up. “I am not here to do harm. Believe it or not, I’m on your side. Might I come in?”

Mithian motioned her inside. She shut the door behind them. _Freya?_

_Yes, Princess? Is there any change with Merlin?_ Freya responded; Concern accenting every word over their Link.

_None yet. Morgana’s here. Is she a threat?_ Mithian wondered.

_Not if she’s smart. The goddess has taken her magic and ordered her to work with us. You can trust her,_ Freya noted.

_Thank you. I’ll let you know immediately if there’s any change,_ Mithian expressed. She looked back toward her visitor. “You’ll forgive my brusqueness. I don’t want my feelings toward Merlin being rumor and innuendo.”

Morgana shrugged. “There has been talk. Agravaine suspected. So does Gaius. My dear brother is too busy playing soldier and ignoring Merlin at the moment to put the facts together. Otherwise most of the Five Kingdoms know.”

“And you? What’s your stance on this?” Mithian raised her voice. Her back raised ever so slightly. She stepped between the former Priestess and Merlin. Her hand rested on his arm.

“I support you both of course.” Seeing Disbelief clouding Mithian’s expression, she continued, “Despite everything, I have always supported the return of the Old Religion and magic to the land, Mithian. I was not always enemies with Merlin. No actually in the beginning, we were friends. It was his preference for Arthur and Camelot even over his own kind that divided us.” A sharp breath escaped her lips. “You are bringing him back to where he should be. As long as that’s the case, I want Merlin to be happy.”

“And Arthur?” Mithian asked.

“What of him?” Morgana gathered the Princess’ intent. “Oh yes. That.” She snorted. “Yes I would like to watch you take Merlin away from Arthur. Gwen should be his right hand now. Merlin should be yours.”

“And you? You and Merlin?” Mithian asked. 

“Merlin came to me recently asking to be my friend again. After tonight, I am ready to be that. Arthur would let him hang especially if he found out about Merlin’s magic. He needs more. The goddess has ordained it to be him and you, Mithian. Let that be an understanding and a peace offering before your father, you and I negotiate our treaty.” Morgana held her hand out. “Please take it.’

“You swear your good intent?” Mithian pressed wanting to be convinced.

“I swear with the triple goddess as my witness. I support Merlin and you,” Morgana reaffirmed. 

Mithian exhaled. She shook Morgana’s hand. “Then I thank you. Sorry. I just don’t know who to trust. I….” She wavered. “What? I?”

_Mithian of Nemeth, I must speak to you,_ a strange male voice told her telepathically.

“Who? What? I….” Her eyes started to flutter. She staggered.

“Mithian? Mithian, what is it?” Morgana rushed forward. Somehow she managed to catch Mithian before she hit the floor. “Now what?” She dragged the Princess over to the bed and set her next to Merlin. She pulled the door open looking for help. Seeing Gaius coming down the passage, she yelled, “GAIUS! HURRY!”

“Queen Morgana? What is it?” He hustled as rapidly as his legs could manage. Panic prompted several ill thoughts through his mind. “Is it Merlin? Do you know where he is?”

“He and Princess Mithian are in here. She just collapsed. I don’t know why!” Morgana explained. She ushered him into the bedchamber.

“My word!” Gaius ran over to the bed. He examined both the Princess and Merlin. “What did this?”

“Merlin was sleeping when I arrived. Princess Mithian was asking who and what something was. She staggered and then fell unconscious. If I still had my magic, I’d look into it myself. Since I don’t, I’ll need your help,” Morgana explained.

“I’ll see what I can do.” He looked at the unconscious couple in front of himself. For a split second, he turned to Morgana. The question seemed to hang on his lips and in his eyes.

“What?” she demanded.

“Did you…?” he started.

“Did I? What? NO!” She frowned; her lips crinkled like a dried prune. Her eyes flared into his. “I don’t have magic any more. I can’t.” She shook her head. “If I did, I would be getting to the bottom of this. Maybe you might try doing the same?”

He nodded. At that point, he wished for magical help as well.

Still other things would be happening where his patients were concerned first…..


	17. Nudges Toward the Future

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin gets insight from a welcome source. Meantime Morgana has her thoughts. Gaius has his too

Chapter 17   
[Dreamscape]

Mithian grimaced. She felt the soft grass underneath. She slowly opened her eyes to find herself back in the goddess’ dreamscape. She efforted herself into a sitting position. She rubbed her forehead while trying to get rid of the headache pounding therein. “How did I get back here? Merlin and I didn’t…”

“Mithian?”

Her ears perked. She glanced up to find Merlin standing beside her. His face still looked pale. He breathed heavily and at irregular bursts. “Merlin!” In a heartbeat, she jumped up and seized him in a big hug. “Your side’s healed?”

“In here, it’s all right. I can feel my body aching. Whatever Freya and you did, it’s helping with the pain.” He returned her embrace. “What you’re doing is helping too.”

She blushed. “Well I should hope so!” Her lips brushed against his cheek. “Still I heard a voice before I was pulled in here. Did you hear anything?”

He shook his head. “I haven’t heard anything. I just opened my eyes and saw you lying there.” He looked around following her lead in that regard.

_I spoke to you, Mithian,_ the Voice told them again. From behind a particularly large oak tree, Balinor stepped into view. The long black and white hair and beard had reverted to jet black. Both were trimmed. Instead of the worn robes he had at his and Merlin’s last meeting, he wore chain mail under the exact same sur coat displayed in Whitgate. A sword hung from his belt. “I thought it was time we should meet.”

“Father?” Merlin stared at the older man.

“Aye, Merlin.” Balinor smiled. His eyes twinkled. He grabbed onto his son. “Thank you for saving your mother.”

“I’ll always watch out for her.” He returned the embrace. Misgivings dissipated before Elation’s glow. His spirit felt light and free. He felt like he was floating. “I’ve missed you.”

“And I have you, Son.” Balinor motioned to his sur coat. “Now I can reveal your legacy. Now you can emerge from the shadows to stand with knights and your dragon brethren. Now you can stand with your chosen partner.”

“Why didn’t you share this with me at the cave?” Merlin wondered.

“Arthur, while your friend, is more like his father than either of us would care to admit. His hatred for magic will continue to burn for a while yet. I appreciate your duty at Camelot’s court. Still you cannot fulfill your destiny there. Within the next two seasons, your transition will ascend to its next stage,” Balinor explained. “Uther Pendragon harmed and destroyed Britannia. This Camelot, while magnificent, he built on blood, bones, pain and horror. You both have seen his handiwork with your own eyes. Others still stew and hate over it. The storm builds. Soon it will unleash full fury upon the landscape.”

“Full fury?” She bit her lip. Her mind tried to consider all of the implications of that prediction.

“Aye, Mithian. As you proceed, you will run against resistance. There are those who want to cage Merlin here in Camelot for their own comfort. Merlin, you must resist against your own desire to stay here. Duty dictates you head west to fulfill Destiny’s call. There your Queen will await you,” Balinor prophesized. He motioned to her. “As you will wait for your King.”

She squeezed her Warlock’s hand in hers. “As I have vowed, so I shall.”

“You will not be alone in this stand. Some have already made the journey back. Others will return at the appointed hour,” Balinor continued. He listened as if hearing something distant. He nodded. “It is time for you both to return. Remember others will press. They will deter you or do their best in that regard. Do not allow them that. You have friends and allies. Only in Camelot and Cawdor does the past still hold sway. Everywhere else Change takes hold. Have heart in that.” He waved his hands.

A bright white light dazzled the couple. They felt themselves being swept away…..

 

****

 

[Mithian’s Bedchamber]

Mithian blinked and opened her eyes. She stiffened at Morgana and Gaius watching Merlin and her as closely as they were. “I’m…I’m all right.” She slowly sat up.

“Princess, you should allow me to examine you. Morgana said you fainted,” Gaius noted. “You could be stressed from the banquet earlier.”

“Master Gaius, whatever it was, it has passed.” Mithian managed to modulate her voice. She got up from the bed and stood without much of a problem. “Merlin should be all right.” Her eyes shifted to her left.

“And you know that?” Morgana posed the question even if she suspected the goddess’ handiwork in the Princess’ declaration.

Gaius narrowed his eyes at Mithian. “Let me be the judge of that, Princess.” He looked over Merlin. He inspected Freya’s bandage and peered underneath it.

“Ow! I felt…that.” Merlin winced. He opened his eyes slowly and with effort. “Gaius, stop. Freya did great with that. Must’ve used…healing spell.”

“Just the same I need to see for myself.” Gaius could see the lightening purple and black there. “Still some inflammation. We’ll see how it heals over the next two days or so.” He pulled the wrap back down over the wound. “I’m just glad he didn’t hit you harder.”

“I can’t believe Arthur didn’t do anything. Why not?” Merlin complained.

“He doesn’t want to provoke a war. Still Meleagant did that all on his own tonight,” Mithian assessed. “I sent Britomart and Sir Ywain after Sir Gawain in case the Cawdorians try anything.”

“They did indeed.” Gaius rubbed his forehead. “Britomart is with Gawain in my chamber. King Percival went with them to face Meleagant’s men. Gawain had a complete breakdown, I fear.” 

“So he has his secrets under that fool’s mask, does he?” Morgana supposed. 

“He’s been through a lot as you have, Queen Morgana,” Gaius informed her. He packed his medical bag again. “I trust you both can watch Merlin? I have to let Arthur and Gwen know. Then Britomart and Gawain are waiting for me.” He bowed to them. Then, with a sharp look to Merlin, he departed.

Merlin grimaced. “I know that look. The lecture’s coming.”

“Let it. You didn’t do anything,” Mithian assured him. “Thank you, Morgana, for the support.”

“You’re welcome.” Morgana observed Skepticism across Merlin’s face. “You did offer renewed friendship. I am affirming that. For what we once had. To support what you two have and will build.” She held out her hand. “New beginning?”

He exchanged looks with his Princess. Seeing her nod, he took Morgana’s hand. “New beginning. Thanks. Sorry I don’t have more energy.”

“I appreciate that, Merlin. Good night, you two.” Morgana smiled. Much as they might have in Merlin’s first year in the castle, her eyes sparkled in the candlelight. She smiled more like Uther’s ward than the rogue Priestess. With that, she slipped out of the chamber and down the passage toward her own lodgings. Relief and Acceptance warmed her heart. Whereas she and Merlin had become powerful adversaries, it seemed they were returning toward friendship.

And that’s really all they could ask for….any of them…..


	18. Gawain Wakes Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gawain snaps out of his malaise. More bantering and some self-discovery ensues....

Chapter 18[Sunrise]

_Sol’s_ first rays peeked over the eastern horizon. Residents both in the walled city and surrounding countryside gathered their offerings and went to complete their remembrance activities. Camelot’s sentries swapped out their numbers sending some to bed while others took their places. 

Even though the calendar had turned to the new year, lingering affairs pressed on….

 

****

 

[Physicians’ Chambers]

Within the chamber, Silence hung over everything akin to the fog outside. A few containers and herbal containers remained strewn across the work table waiting for use. All flames had been extinguished. Gaius snoozed lightly on his cot. Britomart resisted Slumber’s call for her part. Her eyes fought to remain open. She inspected Gawain’s face. She allowed herself a yawn and stretched her arms skyward. “You’ll need some more soon enough.” 

Gawain winced. “B…Brit?” He blinked several times.

“Sir Gawain!” Relief flooded through her. “Do you know how you worried us?” She sat down next to him. “You nearly got yourself into trouble.”

“Yeah.” He rubbed his forehead. “Wow. What a hangover. I….”

“You had more than that.” She put her hands on his shoulders. She looked deeply into his eyes. “You were reliving your childhood trauma. Meleagant brought that out.”

“Surprised he stopped with that.” Gawain puzzled over that fact. “It’s jumbled. Swear that I heard some fighting or something outside.”

“Six Cawdorian knights came after you. We stopped them.” She smirked at him.

He winced. “And let me guess, you were in on it?”

“Sir Ywain, King Percival and _Malodius_ were with me.” She measured out more tea into the filter. Then she started heating another cup of water on the table. “Remember you’re not alone. You’re never alone.”

“Yeah…yeah I got it.” He looked around the chamber. “Gaius let you take over?”

“He needed a nap. I was up anyhow. I had to check on the Princess and Merlin as well,” she explained half-honestly. While she had made a trip upstairs, she’d spent most of the night sitting guard over him. “You just stay right there and rest. I’ll have some more tea for you.”

“That vile crap?” He made a face. 

“It does when mixed with excessive amounts of ale, you Oaf,” she pointed out.

He rolled his eyes. “And now starts the lecture.”

“Aye. Now it starts! You don’t have to charge off or drink your problems away or whatever!” Seeing him stiffen up, she put her hands up. “Just remember you can ask.” She straightened his hair. 

“I got it.” Despite his bravado, he smiled for her benefit. “So what about Merlin? Big Red hit him hard last night.”

“He’s recovering. Priestess Freya saw to his side. Princess Mithian has been with Merlin all night,” she reported. She poured the tea. “Let that cool.” She walked over to Gaius and rubbed him gently. “Master Gaius?”

“Hmmm?” The older man stirred and opened his eyes. “Britomart? What is it? Is there progress?”

“The Cabbage Head’s eyes are open. He seems to have his senses back.” She glanced back at the knight with a bit of Mirth’s gentle glow in her eyes.

Gawain frowned. His inner child railed against the attention. Still his heart warmed to it. He had to admit the support was nice even if he wasn’t used to letting it happen.

Gaius sighed at her assessment. He slowly rose and made his way to Gawain’s side. “Good morning.” He glanced into the irreverent knight’s eyes. “It seems you’re back.”

“Yeah well her preening and spying over me are giving me hives!” Gawain complained.

“Be fortunate that she was doing that last night. You’d be much worse for wear this morning if not dead,” Gaius informed him. “Did she tell you?”

“Yeah. The crimson twerps ganged up on me.” Gawain drank the tea enduring its bitter taste in the process. “So much for that Big Red Can. Maybe ol’ Arthur can actually stand up to him?”

“There’s going to be something this morning. Princess Mithian and King Rodor will be there with the other rulers,” she told him. “You are going to stay right here and rest.”

“Whatever, Mother. Nag. Nag. Nag.” Gawain made a gagging noise before closing his eyes again.

She ground her teeth. “And I’m not stopping either. Maybe you can watch him, Master Gaius? I need some sleep. Dealing with a certain Muttonhead is exhausting!” With that, she headed for the back room to borrow Merlin’s bed for a nap.

“Listening to her is tiring. Gripe. Gripe. Gripe,” Gawain retorted.

“I HEARD THAT!” she yelled back before shutting the door.

Gaius coughed. He wondered just how he’d stand the constant bantering and bickering. Still, on the other hand, he marveled how the red headed healer was making headway with the man-child on his patient’s cot.

Seemed that miracles could happen after all…..


	19. Managing the Situation (or Not)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur confronts Meleagant. Tries to deal with what happened the previous evening.

Chapter 19 [Throne Room—A Half Turn of the Hourglass Later]

Arthur tapped his fingers on the throne’s arm rest. His eyes scanned the chamber taking in all of the gallery’s members. He noted Disappointment’s and Bewilderment’s presence in their eyes. He perceived Impatience prodding his fellow royals. He could almost hear the unspoken questions in the air demanding answers. He felt Resentment’s barbs tearing at him. He stiffened at Meleagant’s impudence at the back of the room.

Especially after the unfortunate incident at the wedding feast, something needed to be done.

“Just be firm but fair, Arthur,” Gwen advised low and in his ear. “We have to manage the situation.”

“Manage? Yes. That’s one way of putting it,” Arthur nodded. As much as he could blame certain individuals for their roles in the previous day’s mess, he also took ownership of his own mistakes. He’d forgone sleep preferring to sit at his desk. His mind still buzzed and sleeves still bore the rouge rings from the overflowing goblets of wine.

George tried but he wasn’t Merlin. It wasn’t his fault really. He was so prim and proper. Pride showed in his eyes over how everything could be in its place and gleaming. He practically disappeared into the woodwork awaiting the next summons. Still such actions left a void….

…a void Merlin would fill….

…a void his father would welcome and he couldn’t stand….

…a void between Service and Friendship….

_Father’s legacy._ He rubbed his chin. The forces at work in that chamber remained from Uther’s reign. In many ways, he reforged Britannia in his own image. While many people benefited, others suffered and seethed. Others still lurked in the background awaiting Opportunity’s opening. _Well he’s gone. It’s now for us to forge our destiny as we see fit. For good or bad, that’s the way it is._ His eyes looked to Gwen. He squeezed her hand and nodded. _That’s the way it is._ He took her hand and guided them both to their feet. He cleared his throat. “Good morning! I appreciate you all being here. Unfortunately events occurred which must be dealt with. I apologize about the situation. Now we shall deal with things. First of all, Gaius?”

“Yes, Sire?” The elderly healer stood. His eyes sagged from lack of his own sleep. He’d spent time bouncing back and forth between Gawain’s and Merlin’s respective bedsides. 

“How are your patients this morning?” Arthur wondered.

“Recovering. Sir Gawain rests in my chambers. Physically he is fine. I believe he will be back to service shortly. As for Merlin, he sustained two cracked ribs from where he struck the wall. In both cases, it could have been worse. Thankfully I had help with these cases. Britomart is with Sir Gawain watching him.” Gaius clenched and unclenched his hands. 

“And Merlin?” Gwen asked. 

“One of the priestesses was with him. She treated and healed him before I got there. Princess Mithian and Queen Morgana were there with her,” Gaius reported; Discomfort paling his features as he muttered the words.

Coughs and chuckles poked at everyone’s ears. Authority seemed to take another hit. Distaste percolated throughout the room.

“Priestess?” Arthur rolled his eyes. “So there was magic involved?” He sucked in a deep composing breath. “Truly? And you let this happen, Gaius?”

“It was already done, Sire. It was a healing spell and then the wound was dressed with a poultice and wrapped,” Gaius pointed out.

Morgana glared at Mithian and then at Gaius. She understood that the Princess awaited her turn in this discussion. Still a harsh frown curled her lip. Discrimination and Ingratitude grated on her. She folded her arms not caring if everyone could see her.

Arthur, however, ignored his sister. He brooded over that revelation. He knew his father would’ve sought out the priestess involved and had her sent to the stake. “So she did use magic?”

“It would seem so, Sire. I didn’t see the spell being cast,” Gaius backpedaled.

_Bravo, Gaius. Once again, you turn on your own to save your own skin!_ Morgana brooded. 

“Can’t even keep control of your father’s house, can you?” Meleagant taunted from the back. Satisfaction and Glee burned at the resident King. “You’re soft, Pendragon. Last night showed that. Servants and underlings can be replaced. “

“I didn’t ask you,” Arthur retorted. His eyes narrowed. He clenched the throne’s arm rests. “This is Camelot not Cawdor. You are a guest here. No more. No less.”

Meleagant coughed. “For now. One day, this will be mine. Then we’ll see who the guest is.” He scoffed. “The beggar boy should be dead. Aye! I sent my men to exterminate that vermin. My uncle sent him and his bitch mother off to die! The only reason he’s alive…the only reason…is that vigilantes overstep their authority. Mithian sent her maid, a knight and the creature behind your back.”

“I issued the order, Meleagant. Unlike you, Nemeth values her obligations. Sir Gawain has done as much for Britomart on an earlier visit to this city. Sir Ywain and _Malodius_ have earned respect in the field and at court. They had a large role in the order being preserved. There wouldn’t be sour grapes perhaps? Perhaps you remember the affair at Riversmore from years before? _Malodius_ carved his way through your uncle’s troops well enough. You and I are not the only children of those who fought on that day here. Nor is Sir Gawain. We deal with the skirmishes between Uther and your uncle. We endure the pain searing from the Purge.” Rodor met Meleagant’s look with a fiercer one of his own. “In fact, one might wonder about your own indiscretion. “

“Indescretion? The pretty boy is an irritant. No more,” Meleagant.

“Is he that? I’ll grant you that Sir Gawain’s irreverence grates on me. I’ve heard what Princess Mithian and my knights have said about him. Still he is a most noble warrior. And, after your actions last night, I think we understand why.” Rodor walked over until he stood about five paces away from Cawdor’s hulking tyrant. “And I wonder if there’s a question of legitimacy? Why is someone a bully? Why do you care about him, Meleagant? I see Doubt making you hesitate now. Why? Could there be a question as to who should be on your throne? Is that why you go on about strength and holding the throne by force?”

“Are you going to let this go on, Pendragon?” Meleagant looked to Arthur in order to turn the tables back to his advantage.

“King Rodor seeks your motivations, Meleagant. Perhaps you might not interrupt the next time and open yourself up to this? I am content to allow him to continue. I’ve heard similar stories from my father about that battle. I want to know more,” Arthur disallowed. He nodded to Rodor.

Meleagant seethed. He ground his teeth. He glared daggers at the dais.

“Thank you.” Rodor acknowledged Arthur’s response with a nod. Then he continued, “There was no point to dredging up old wounds last night. Samhain is about celebrating our ancestors’ achievements. If you do bring the ill events up, it is in the spirit of resolving such grievances. Such things should only be done to heal not to provoke. You are the one who provoked the incident. And it was Mercia as well as Nemeth out there last night.” He turned and nodded to Percival in acknowledgment. “It was in the spirit of unity that we stood with Camelot last night.”

“You’re still an anarchist, Rodor. You’re an old fossil and has been. I only have to wait. Mithian can’t bear to be with any man. Your dynasty is finished.” Meleagant coughed. “Who is he? Who’s the imaginary consort for her hand? Why haven’t you identified him?”

“All in good time. I do not proceed according to your timetable, Meleagant,” Rodor rebuffed eliciting a few more coughs around the chamber. “We have an understanding. I have yet to undertake negotiations. Diplomacy is a delicate matter akin to handling an egg. You do understand what happens when you crush one? It makes a mess. Princess Mithian understands that. So do I.”

“The Princess has said as much to us,” Arthur reinforced. “I have pledged to do whatever can be done to help Princess Mithian be with him. Unlike you, Meleagant, I have a conscience. As was said earlier, I too remember my obligations. And I will see them together.”

Gwen nodded. Her eyes met Mithian’s. _I wonder how Arthur’ll react when he finds out about Merlin?_ Still that particular point had been made. Now she’d heard his promise in front of not just Camelot’s court but Britannia’s ruling caste. She anticipated the haranguing and brewing storm.

Still Merlin had earned his nobility in several ways. He’d achieved through extraordinary service. Through Balinor, such was his birthright if Hunith had been correct. Through Mithian, he had the bond to royalty. 

Now if only Arthur would not pull the double standard for once….

“Still, Meleagant, your actions need to be dealt with at the moment. You assaulted a member of the royal household….’ Arthur started.

“A stinking servant! Little more!” Meleagant spat.

“He is MY SERVANT! AS SUCH, HE IS PART OF THIS HOUSE!” Arthur exhaled sharply. Then he pressed on. “Merlin does act like an idiot. Still last night was not one of those times. He was performing his duty. You interfered in that. Therefore you interfered with me.” He sighed. “I don’t want to fight with you. Still you did assault Merlin. You threatened Queen Elena and Princess Mithian. You harmed Sir Gawain. You sent your men to cause him harm. My father would challenge you right now. Be grateful I don’t share in his views.” He stiffened. “Apologize.”

“Apologize?” Meleagant snorted. “A weakling like you lacks the strength to make me.” He shook his head. “Thank you. I needed the humor to stomach this farce.” His eyes narrowed. “One day, you all will rue this. As you all remember, I too have a memory for old accounts.” He sniffed. “And I will settle them in blood. That I vow.” He coughed. “I have little more need of your so-called ‘hospitality’, Pendragon. You can’t even enforce your own laws. You can’t keep your subjects in line. You let your so-called allies run over you. And you expect me to cower at your weak demand?” He coughed. “Tell the Beggar Boy, I will await him. I hope he recovers. I so want to watch him bleed at the end of my blade. The same goes for you, Percival and Rodor. I know. That’s all.” He spat on the floor. Then he wheeled about and stormed from the chamber.

“Leon, follow him. Take the knights and make sure he and his men depart from here. I want no reprisals,’ Arthur ordered.

Leon nodded. He led the other knights from the chamber. Perhaps they might’ve asked for assistance. Still he understood Arthur’s orders. He knew they had to show strength in their own regard. They were still the Knights of Camelot after all.

Once his knights’ boot clops had faded into the distance, Arthur offered a wan smile. “Thank you for being here. I appreciate the support. If you are leaving, I wish you safe travels. If you wish to speak further or negotiate with us, Gwen and I will be more than happy to do so. As today shows, we should all stand together. Thank you, my Friends. That is all. If you forgive us, Gwen and I do have someone to check on. Gaius, if you can lead us to Gawain?”

“It would be my pleasure,” Gaius agreed. He glanced toward Rodor and Mithian. Then he ushered the two monarchs out of the chamber and toward his own place.

After they’d departed, Mithian frowned. She’d hoped that Arthur would have checked on Merlin. 

“Princess Mithian, I’d like to speak with Merlin if that’s possible?” Elena requested.

“As would we,” Percival insisted with a nod toward Blancheflor. 

“It is for King Rodor to say.” Mithian turned to her father. 

“I believe it would be good for Merlin to see he indeed has friends. Service in itself should beget kindness in both directions. Such is the mortar which would hold our good will together,” Rodor agreed. “Follow me then.” With that, he led the other rulers from the area. 

Mithian stewed that Arthur still ignored Merlin. Still Pride swelled in her breast. Even now, Merlin sets a good example for everyone. She smiled; her steps lightened a bit in the process.

The heart, it seemed, could lead too after all…..


	20. Lines Drawn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin stews over the limits placed on him by certain caring women in his orbit (Freya and Mithian). Gawain deals with Britomart's fussing. Arthur visits.

Chapter 20 [Mithian’s Bedchamber—A Turn of the Hourglass Later]

Merlin stared at the ceiling. He frowned at the most recent wave of visitors to the chambers. His mind pined over how much work remained to be done around the castle. He cursed the injury which kept him so weak and in that bed. Several times he’d attempted to escape. He’d actually got out of bed and made it to the door. That is until he discovered it had been sealed with a containment spell….

…a spell it seemed Freya had placed over it to keep him inside… It seems she’d thought of everything.

_Mithian is so set and determined to keep me here. I’m all right! I wish she’d understand. I…._ He grimaced at Pain’s sharp stab in his side.

“Not so healed, are you?” Freya supposed from the other side of the chamber. “What is with you, Merlin? Can’t you just stay put and heal?”

“I have things to do! I…” Merlin protested.

“Arthur can find someone else to muck stables for once,” she told him; Anger hissing into his ears with each tone.

“He is my King,” he pointed out.

“For now. Still he is obligated to treat you decently,” she insisted. “Besides there is another piece of news.”

He stiffened. “Do I really want to know?”

“You should. Still it is for King Rodor and Princess Mithian to tell you.” Freya peered toward the door. Her eyebrow raised. “And it seems they aren’t alone.” She created a mist portal. “I’d best leave.”

“Wait! What?” He watched her vanish. He slumped against the pillows. Several times during the earlier visit, he’d heard the dignitaries’ vague hints about some grand announcement on Arthur’s part. Still they wouldn’t tell him anything. “Who’s there?”

_It’s Father and me. We have others to see you. You are still in that bed. Aren’t you?_ Mithian declared.

_Yes. Like I’d be anywhere else? Mithian, I do have things to do. I’ll get through this like everything else,_ he declared.

_And we can help get those tasks done. Meantime I could make you stay there,_ she countered.

_Like the containment spell on the door? Freya’s been busy,_ he noted.

_When certain Warlocks don’t know when to stay put, it’s necessary,_ she informed him. She opened the door and stuck her head in. A smirk and her eyes’ sparkle lit up her face. “Well now, there’s hope for you yet.”

“Now I have two bossy royals to deal with. Yak, yak, yak….” Merlin sassed. 

“What was that?” she retorted; a rude snort escaping from her curled lips.

“Oh nothing.” He ground his teeth conceding the point for Appearance’s sake to say the least. He sat up with effort. “You do…have things needing to be done.”

Mithian frowned. “The only thing you’re going to do is rest in that bed, Merlin. And that is an order.”

“No topping that is there?” Merlin conceded.

“Considering I’m _the bossy royal_ , no. Deal with that.” Mithian somehow restrained herself from a saucy kiss to drive the point home. She motioned toward the door. “We have a few more guests.”

“Looks like she’s got you figured out, Merlin,” Gawain jabbed. He leaned against the door frame for support. He forced a devil may care smirk onto his face. Mischief twinkled in his eyes. “And here I thought you’d be cleaning up.”

“Thought…that Britomart would clean you up,” Merlin retorted not wanting to give an inch. 

“Brit thinks she will. Yeah right.” Gawain managed a couple of bravado-driven steps. Still his breakdown had left him drained. He swayed and staggered. ‘I’ll deal with…the…”

“You’ll relax.” Britomart snaked her arms under his effectively catching him before he could hit the floor. She grunted. “You need a diet.”

Merlin and Mithian both coughed.

“I…What? Now you’re saying I’m fat?” Gawain complained. 

“I thought you were…full of hot air before. Now I know there’s…more, you Oaf,” Britomart fired back. She helped him over to a chair by the bed. “Stay put. Maybe you might encourage Merlin?”

“Lady, he is my friend. Think I know a thing or two about that.” Gawain sucked in a heavy breath. “Mate, she is a royal pain. You know that?”

“She’s good for you. You know it,” Merlin informed him. “Besides you now owe her one.”

“At least Merlin can count. Listen to him,” Britomart interjected.

“You’re no help, Merlin. Don’t encourage her. She clings tighter than one of those leeches.” Gawain shuddered. He ground his teeth. He narrowed his eyes.

“Maybe she can keep you out of the Rising Sun, Sir Gawain? It seems you need such aid,” Mithian deduced.

“Gee, Mith. You think so? Thanks.” Gawain coughed. “I’m not a bloody goose to claim as a prize.”

“Nobody ever said as much,” Britomart insisted. “You don’t need to kill yourself either!”

“We can continue this discussion later. Right now, Merlin, there are two more people to see you.” Mithian motioned toward the door again. There she saw Arthur and Gwen awaiting their cue. 

“All of this bickering is giving me a headache! Can’t you two be quiet?” Arthur complained.

Gawain coughed. “Hey, Merlin, Arthur’s delicate head’s pounding again. Wonder if he got cuffed on patrol again. Eh?”

Merlin grinned. While he wanted to make some smart-aleck remark, he stifled it. “Maybe.” He looked toward Arthur and Gwen. “Sire and my Lady.”

“Merlin! It’s good to see you awake. Are you feeling better?” Gwen declared.

“I am. Thanks to Princess Mithian and another friend. I….” Merlin started before Gwen cut him off.

“We know about Priestess Freya’s help, Merlin. It’s all right.” Gwen looked at the bandages around his middle. “Magic does have its uses.”

“Not likely,” Arthur complained before getting a dirty look from his wife. “What? You know magic is evil! So it helped this time. So what?”

“You’d be surprised, Arthur. Magic can be good too. Depends on the user,” Gawain retorted sticking up for Merlin and Freya in the process. “Besides Freya did help us before. Quit being like Uther. That act isn’t going to help anyone.”

“I could put you in the stocks or a cell, Gawain. I have yet to decide what to do about last night,” Arthur threatened.

“Arthur, don’t. You let Meleagant provoke everything. At least he left before anything happened,” Gwen pleaded.

“I just went to stew and drink it off. Maybe his goons should’ve stayed away!” Gawain bowed his head. A spasm shook him. “That arse likes playing games? FINE!” Sweat drenched his forehead. His eyes narrowed to slits. “HIS BLOODY UNCLE’S FULL OF BOLLOCKS! HE’S THE COWARD NOT MY FATHER! HE DROVE MY MOTHER AND ME OUT! MOTHER DIED IN THE MUD! BECAUSE OF THE RED CANS! YOU REALLY THINK THIS IS A GAME???”

“Gawain, quit carrying on. You didn’t have to…” Arthur started.

“Sire, maybe we shouldn’t argue….” Merlin suggested.

“Merlin, he’s carrying on like a girl. And you’re lying there….” Arthur sniffed.

Gawain jumped out of his seat. “You let him embarrass me! You’re like the hotshot King! You could stop him! But noooo! You let Big Red insult Mith and Elena. Merlin’s in that ‘girl bed’ because you wouldn’t face him! I had to take his bloody challenge! ALL RIGHT?” His breathing came out in short sharp bursts. “And you’re talking about the stocks? SERIOUSLY? Maybe you’ll go on like Uther did about magic? Hate to tell you. The priestesses are good too. They helped us. They helped you. Hell, they just healed Merlin from what I can tell.”

“You don’t understand….” Arthur sputtered.

“Understand what, Sire? I….” Gawain’s eyes watered. He bowed his head. “You think you’re the only one that’s lost a father? Mith’s still got hers. The rest of us…well…we’ve all had our Dads murdered. QUIT IT! I…I…” He winced. Slowly he rose from his seat. “Forget it. Brit, I…tried.”

“Sir Gawain, maybe you need to rest here.” Britomart turned to Mithian seeking confirmation or support in that regard.

“Merlin doesn’t need to listen to my crap,” Gawain disagreed.

“Maybe we girls need to stick together?” Merlin suggested while sticking a barb in for Arthur at the end. “He motioned toward the spot next to himself. 

Arthur grimaced. “Yes…well…I do believe there are some other matters to attend to. Merlin, I’m glad you’re recovering. I’ll expect you back in the next couple of days.” Crimson streaked across his cheeks. He hurried out of the chamber.

Gwen sighed. “I’m sorry, Everyone. I wish I understood what’s happening with him.’

“His world’s been turned upside down and he’s having a hard time adjusting?” Merlin supposed. He glanced toward the still open door and down into the passage. 

“More like his delicate ego’s been bruised. Maybe he might think of what he’s done to us.” Gawain glanced at Gwen and then at Mithian. “Life rots some times.” He shook his head.

“He is growing. I can see that,” Mithian pointed out.

“Thank you for saying that.” Gwen peered down the hall. Even if she was the Queen, Embarrassment weighed on her. “Merlin, I’m glad you’re getting better. Rest up. Enjoy the company.” She smiled before departing from the chamber.

Britomart closed the door. “Sometimes I feel sorry for Queen Guinevere. I don’t understand how King Arthur can keep the kingdom running straight.”

Mithian chuckled. “He does what he can. Any good ruler needs his or her supporters. The Queen is one.” She looked toward the bed. _And you’re the other, Merlin._

_Nice that someone notices. Now maybe the Prat might?_ Merlin supposed over the Link.

_Maybe someday he will. Meantime don’t be getting a swelled head, my Prince,_ Mithian jabbed back. She smirked at him and slapped at his arm.

Gawain stretched out. “Yeah I could get used to this and….” He felt his head drop to the mattress. “Hey! What the….?”

“Perhaps you might get used to that as well, Sir Gawain?” Mithian proposed.

“Gawain, quit while you’re ahead,” Merlin advised. “You still could end up in the stocks.” He coughed. “Or…” A gleam sparked in his eye. “Perhaps I could suggest to someone that you need some time to yourself. A nice ride. Perhaps a picnic? Pick some herbs and flowers?”

“Now you’re talking,” Gawain agreed. He leaned back and imagined the scene. “Yeah a furlough. I can definitely deal with that, Mate.”

“You would.” Britomart rolled her eyes. “It just happens that Master Wyngate needs me to undertake such a venture. I could use a strong and supposedly trained knight as a companion.”

“I believe Father would support such an idea.” Mithian’s smirk spread wider across her face. “And you say, Merlin, you wouldn’t be a good Prince. Such ideas do make you passable in that regard.” She kissed him on the cheek. “Rest up now. While I’m here, you’ll stay right there.”

“Yes, Dear,” Merlin replied half-seriously.

“See? You are learning.” Mithian led Britomart out of the chamber and shut the door behind them. 

“Merlin, next time you get an idea, keep it to yourself. Geez! My head’s hurting again,” Gawain complained.

“Don’t fight the Power. You’re looking all over the place. Maybe the answers are right in front of us?” Merlin closed his eyes. “I’m taking a nap.”

Gawain rolled his eyes. _Special assistant to her? A vacation with no taverns, wenching or fighting? Seriously? What’s this world coming to?_ He closed his eyes and drifted off toward _Morpheus’_ domain as well.

Some things just happened to work out better when one works with them…..


	21. Gaius Confronts Merlin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gaius confronts Merlin about the latter's relationship with Mithian. Things get very heated (and that's an understatement). Morgana and Nimue intervene.

Chapter 21 [Physicians’ Chamber—Four Days Later]

Gaius brooded at his work table. He could see that the bilberry tincture would be ready shortly. Miraculously, no epidemics had appeared in town or the countryside. Conversations with the castellans and the guests prior to their departure cheered his spirits. Meleagant’s threat lay in the future but nothing could be done about it at that point. Gawain and Merlin improved health wise.

_Merlin…._

The elderly man tapped his fingers on the chipped wooden surface. Over the previous half year, he’d seen signs of something being amiss. He attributed Merlin’s service during the failed engagement to covering Arthur’s back. He didn’t see anything wrong with Merlin saving Mithian’s life or her returning the favor at Merlin’s trial. No it didn’t seem anything was amiss. That is until he watched them at Ealdor and then during this latest visit. 

The kiss in the Grand Hall ate at him.

_She’s seducing him. She wants him for herself!_ He frowned. _Merlin can’t be with her. Even if they do love each other, it can’t be! It…._

At that moment, Merlin entered into the chamber slowly. He favored the injured side still noticeably. Still thanks to Freya’s and Mithian’s care to that point, he’d progressed to the point where he could do some chores if he took it easy. He pushed the door until it was just ajar. “What are you working on, Gaius?”

“A bilberry tincture for Sir Thomas. It seems his eye sight needs a boost.” Gaius watched his former charge for a few heartbeats. “You should get more rest, Merlin. Those ribs aren’t ready for the stress.”

“Can’t. Arthur’s finally letting me do some regular stuff again,” Merlin declined. “Besides I can use my own bed again. The Princess was good enough to let me rest in her chamber in between a few light chores.” He averted his eyes toward the floor.

The Eyebrow raised on the elderly face parting more than a few wrinkles in its wake. He knew when the younger man was telling a lie or half-truth at best. “Merlin, we need to talk.”

“Gaius, really. I have to get going. There’s….” Merlin stiffened. Dread washed over him. _Really? Do I need this?_

“Merlin.” Gaius glared into his eyes. He pointed toward the chair across the table. “Sit.”

“Gaius, don’t. I’m hurting. I don’t need a lecture,” Merlin told him.

“Well I think you do. What’s going on between Princess Mithian and you? You seem to be getting close,” Gaius inquired. 

Merlin felt almost like he had in that first year when he’d done something to incite Uther. He quivered almost like a kitten. “Gaius, she likes my service. It’s like with Arthur…or used to be that way….we’re friends even if we know our boundaries.”

“Do you?” Gaius supposed. “Merlin, don’t lie to me.”

“Gaius, she’s a Princess. I mean really? So we’re friends? Kind of goes with saving each other’s lives. You don’t have a problem with me trying to be friendly with Arthur even if he’s being a prat. Same with the knights or Gwen,” Merlin argued.

“Friends don’t kiss each other romantically. What if Arthur saw you? What if the other rulers saw that? They could tell Arthur. He’d have you executed,” Gaius admonished.

“Gaius, it’s none of their business! As for Arthur, the Prat can be with Gwen. Still I can’t be friends with Princess Mithian? I can’t serve her? Gaius, I’ve proven myself in all regards! I’m still willing to serve for now,” Merlin countered.

“For now….Merlin, yes, you have fulfilled the Capability Laws for Camelot and Nemeth. Still you think Arthur will care? He’s the King. You’re a servant and _servus_. He’s already demonstrated a willful double standard where you’re concerned. He wants the old standard. It’s your duty to comply. You have no choice!” Gaius lectured.

“I heard he promised to help us in front of everyone! He promised!” Merlin bellowed. In an uncharacteristic move, he slapped his hand on the table. The past decade boiled up inside of him. Frustration shook him. His eyes glowed. 

The tincture shattered spilling bilberry solution everywhere.

Bookshelves shook.

Glass apparatus exploded.

Gaius flew backward. Fortunately the cot cushioned his impact.

Merlin shook. His teeth clattered. Tears clouded his vision. “I am so close, Gaius! Please! I can take care of Mother! I can still serve and protect Arthur! I can work with magic! Arthur needs to understand!”

“He won’t. Merlin, think about your destiny. This can’t work! Look at you. I’ll go to Arthur and….” Gaius threatened. He propped himself back into a sitting position.

Anger flooded through Merlin’s consciousness. Like a dark wave, it chilled and emboldened him. He narrowed his eyes. “No you won’t!” He snorted.

Gaius recoiled. “Merlin, get a hold of yourself.”

Merlin? What is it? What’s wrong? Mithian tried to call.

Merlin shook his head. His mind shut everything else out. He looked about the area. _“Thoir seachad a h-uile càil!”_ His eyes glinted. His hands extended. More energies flowed from him.

About the chamber, everything came back together. Glass shards retraced their paths. They came back together; their cracks resealed. The bilberry flowed back into the container. The apparatus resumed working as if nothing had happened. Gaius even stammered forward as if a puppet on a string. The spell put him firmly (perhaps a bit too firmly) into the now-rebuilt chair. 

“Merlin, what have you done?” Gaius gasped. Panic and Fear lit in his eyes. “Have you lost your mind?”

“No….I just want to do my duty and be happy! I just cleaned up the mess.” Merlin insisted. With the back of his hand, he swiped away his tears. He grabbed his side.

Morgana stuck her head in the door. “What’s going on? I heard shouting. The entire wing of the castle just shook…and….” She stopped stock still.

“WHAT?” Merlin snapped. His eyes glowed again. 

“Your Highness, it’s….” Gaius started to make excuse until he realized it would do no good.

She stared at Merlin. Somehow she managed to shut the chamber door. Still his current state of mind stabbed chills through her. 

She saw herself as she’d been. She could feel Betrayal’s dark sting yet again after the failed poisoning. She could see Gaius’ self-serving appearance playing both sides against the middle. She realized how much it had hurt her. She saw the implications. She looked at her hands. Then her eyes returned to Merlin. 

He was sliding down that same slope….He was snapping under the games and half-truths. Denial of Self and Deceit’s games finally had pushed him too far. He could lie about his magic. He could lie about his parentage. He’d somehow skirted Despair’s doom following Freya’s death years earlier even if he’d been shut in for months afterwards. Still it was too much.

She shook her head. “Merlin.”

“Morgana, I don’t want to hear it! I…I know about being patient. I get it. I….” Merlin sobbed.

“Merlin, please! I am not going to do that! You should know me better than that!” she insisted. “Especially when you’re right.”

“Your Highness, don’t!” Gaius interrupted.

“You’ve said quite enough, Gaius. Merlin is right. He doesn’t deserve this abuse.” Morgana exhaled deeply. “Merlin, calm down. It’s all right.” She shook her head. “I wish I still had my magic. I’d teleport him out of here right now.”

“Perhaps we should be grateful for such favors,” Gaius observed. “You certainly exceeded any reasonable bounds with it.”

She stiffened. As Merlin felt, Anger’s chill froze her emotions. Her eyes narrowed. “You talk of reason? This is madness!” She bowed her head. _I don’t know if you can hear me but we need help. Merlin lingers on the edge. I don’t want him to fall like I did. Arthur tortures him._ A tear creased her cheek.

_I always hear you, Child. Thank you for your compassion. Yes a solution is in order. Step away from Emrys,_ the goddess told her.

Merlin disappeared in a flash of light.

“What? Morgana, what did you do? I thought you didn’t have magic any longer,” Gaius demanded. He stiffened. “What have you done with Merlin?”

“What did I…?” She stared at him. Then she laughed. Loudly. 

He stared strangely at her. “I fail to see the humor in this. Now you will answer me.”

“I will…what?” She coughed. “I am a Queen now, Gaius. Not the naïve ward or girl you tried to poison. Don’t you DARE talk to me like that! As you were just telling Merlin, KNOW YOUR PLACE!” She bit back her bile. A couple of deep breaths composed her once more. “Now, as for what happened. I did nothing. No actually, I said a prayer for Merlin. His disappearance was the triple goddess’ work directly.”

He blinked. “She wouldn’t!” Then he shivered. “Now what?” 

Morgana turned toward the breeze’s source. There her eyes alighted on Nimue. “Now you did it.” She cleared her throat. 

“I didn’t do….,” he started to protest.

Nimue snorted. “How typical of you, Gaius. Queen Morgana is right on both matters. The goddess did indeed intervene. She sent Merlin away for his own good. He will be returned when matters settle back down.” She glanced toward Morgana. “You didn’t do anything other than your duty, Morgana. In case Arthur sends his knights, you shouldn’t be here.”

“Gaius needs to understand,” Morgana insisted.

“And why do you think I’m here? It certainly isn’t for the pleasure of his company,” Nimue informed her allowing a bit of Sarcasm’s barb into her words. “Go on. I certainly know him well enough.”

Morgana nodded. Pity moved her for a heartbeat. Still she knew he definitely had it coming. “Thank you.” She nodded. “Blessings, Sister.”

“And to you, Morgana.” Nimue returned the gesture with one of her own.

Morgana slipped quickly out the door and almost slammed it behind herself. She wasted no time walking down that passage and out of that wing of the castle altogether.

Some things were indeed their own best reward….

 

****

 

Nimue looked about the chamber. She could see that little had changed in the time since Uther’s reign. She admired the books’ spines. She regarded the apparatus on the table. “I see you still have everything. It is cleaner though. It helps when you have your underling. Does it not?” She wiped her finger across the table and held it right in front of his face. “I see Merlin does his bidding well. Doesn’t he?”

Gaius watched her carefully. His mind tried to figure out her agenda and endgame. “What is this about, Nimue? Surely you should know better than to come back here. Arthur will burn you at the stake if he catches you.”

She sniffed. “I am here on the goddess’ business, Gaius. That is if you remembered such things.” She coughed. “You lecture Merlin about loyalty and yet…yet…you are the biggest traitor of them all. Do not think your past crimes have been forgotten. It is well remembered how you chose to cower behind Uther Pendragon’s standard. It is remembered how you stood by as our fellow priests and priestesses were rounded up, drowned and burned screaming in village squares across this isle!”

“I had to survive. I helped get some out when I could,” he insisted. “Certainly you should understand!”

“I understand that the triple goddess has my allegiance. So you should have as well! You turned Morgana to the darkness. You nearly did the same to Merlin.” Nimue shook her head. “This has nearly run its course.” She regarded the chamber. “Soon this will be behind him.”

“Behind…?” He growled, “Whatever you have in mind, I won’t….” Before he could do anything else, he felt something restraining him.

Her eyes glowed. “BE STILL! You’ve done quite enough.” She stalked over to him. “As tempting as it would be to force Merlin’s transition, such things have to work in their own time. You will not tell anyone else of this conversation. He will return once he is calmed down. Everything will proceed as it always does. Still Arthur will not hold Merlin back. The young man it seems has an important calling.”

“What of his destiny? What about Arthur? Merlin has to protect…him,” he reminded her.

“Merlin can do so in many ways. You benefit from this way. There are others which benefit everyone. Let that be so.” She disappeared in a puff of mist.

_Important calling? What is going on?_ Gaius looked toward the door. He wanted to go and tell Arthur despite her warning. Still something held him in place. 

It seemed that Destiny had rendered a judgment of its own…..


	22. Under Mithian's Care

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mithian feels the confrontation in Gaius' chamber. When Merlin appears, she immediately gets care for him. Understandings are put into place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Passover and Happy Easter to everyone out there!

Chapter 22   
[Whitgate—Mithian’s Chamber]

As Nimue and Morgana confronted Gaius, Mithian looked out her bedroom window. Through it, she surveyed the city’s ramparts and beyond the walls. She gazed upon the yellowing grasses between the moat and the woods’ edge. She could see the sporadic remaining colored foliage adorning the oaks and maples extending from the top of the ridge. She spied nary a bird remaining nor any flying through the overcast sky. She could see the aforementioned leaves rustling in the chill wind.

Her skin dimpled. Granted it wasn’t just from the wind. No. She felt it inside. She recoiled from the Link. She couldn’t understand why her entreaties received no response.

Merlin struggled with some sort of darkness. Desperation drowned Hope. Anger swamp Reason. 

_What now? We just left three days ago! Freya was supposed to be watching!_ She ground her teeth. 

Pain seared at her from his wounded side. Power bowled her over knocking her straight back against the bed.

“What did he do?” Her eyes went wide. Panic seized her. It was too much. He broke down and lashed out. _Oh please, please! Don’t let him have hurt anyone! Don’t take him from me now that we’re so close!_ She frowned. A tear creased her cheek. _Father and the Council count on me to participate in governance. How can I when Merlin needs me like this? What is Arthur doing? He made Merlin do chores or something. He would!_ She slapped the wall. 

Suddenly the clouds parted over the castle. _Sol_ cast his light intensely on her chamber…and mysteriously only on her chamber. Warmth shoved Chill aside. Light burned away Dark. 

Then the Link snapped on. She braced herself. Pain increased its intensity. It seemed so much closer.

“M…Mithian?” his scratchy weak voice croaked.

Her ears perked. Her eyes went wide. Her jaw dropped. She wheeled around. “Merlin?”

“Where are Gaius and Morgana? I…I...Ah! Ow!” He gasped in short bursts. He grabbed his injured side. His face contorted in a tortured grimace. “This…isn’t Camelot?”

“Most assured not. Welcome to Whitgate, Merlin. You’re in my bedchamber,” she informed him. “Let’s get you into bed. I won’t have you hurting yourself any further.” She helped him off of the floor. “Not far and there you go.” She helped him to lie down.

“You’re supposed to be helping your father. I’m a distraction. I….” he doubted.

“Father will understand. We just finished our council meeting.” She pulled his boots off. Then she pulled the covers over him. “Now you will stay there. We’ll get those bandages changed. You will stay put until you’re properly healed.”

“Mithian, I….” he started to protest.

“No objections! And I mean none!” She looked him in the eye pointedly. _I mean it, Merlin. Arthur couldn’t wait. Could he? Despite what Freya told you, you just had to do work._

_He needed a crate moved. It didn’t look that heavy so I did it. I lifted it. I walked away. A little while later, the pain started. That’s when I went back upstairs to Gaius’ chamber,_ he explained.

She nodded before heading for the door. She opened it. “BRITOMART! SARAH!”

The red headed maid ran at the Princess’ summons. She skidded to a halt right in front of her. “Milady? You’re pale! What’s the matter? What could be….?” She peered into the open chamber. “Who is that in your bed?”

“Merlin. Somehow he was teleported here. I don’t know how.” Mithian shook her head. “Arthur pushed him to lift a crate of some kind. Merlin reinjured himself. He went to Gaius’ chamber.” She quivered. “Get Master Wyngate. Please hurry!”

“I’ll be right back, Milady!” Britomart rushed off toward the stairs. She passed Sarah on the way. “See to Princess Mithian! She needs you!”

“What?” The blonde maid hurried toward her mistress. “Princess?” She curtseyed. “Forgive me. I didn’t hear.”

“It’s all right. I need the bed made up in the guest chamber. Merlin will be staying with us until he’s well enough to travel,” Mithian instructed.

“Aye, Princess.” Sarah walked toward the guest room and the next set of preparations.

Mithian shook her head. _I can’t believe this is happening! We just got back here last night! What are they doing there? I would have given Arthur more credit than this!_

_He likes giving orders. So do you. Happy?_ Merlin cracked.

_Kind of the deal with us Pushy Royals. And I’m ordering you to close your eyes and sleep._ Mithian returned to his side. _We can answer the other questions later._

Before he could disagree, a soothing rush cascaded through him. Pleasant voices serenaded his ears. His eye lids sagged and drooped. Relaxing under her protective gaze, he fell asleep.

She frowned. _We will get to the bottom of this, Merlin. That I promise you!_

First treatment. Then rehab as accorded a Prince. Then answers would be forthcoming.

And you could take that one to the treasury, write it on the parchment and seal that too…..

 

****

 

[Sometime later]

Merlin drifted in and out of consciousness. He floated on the warmth. He bobbed and weaved on the gentle breeze feeling almost buoyant as if floating on water. The _Sirens_ continued their serenade guiding him from Pain’s bitter voyage toward his Princess’ care. Then something disrupted that pleasantness. Something squeezed his middle. His wound burned further before something numbed that sensation. Voices argued.

His eyes slowly blinked and then opened. They blurred into focus to spy Mithian, Freya and Britomart all watching him intently. “P…Princess, what?”

Mithian placed her hand on his shoulder. Relief brightened her face returning some color to her pale complexion. “Merlin, you’ve been asleep for three days. Master Wyngate, our Court Physician, had to cut into your side. He had to reset the ribs. Then he stitched the incision and rewrapped you. Priestess Freya gave you an herbal balm for the pain.” She shook her head and averted her eyes.

“That bad?” he wondered.

Freya rubbed her forehead. “Merlin, the rib broke from your exertion. It grazed against your lung. From how it was pushing against it, the bone almost punctured it. You almost killed yourself working like that. Your breakdown didn’t help either.” She looked at him. “I know it wasn’t your fault. Still….”

“Breakdown?” Mithian asked. “I felt an icy cold surge before he showed up here. Was that?”

“It was. Gaius pushed Merlin beyond the edge of reason. He struggles to deal with your relationship. He now knows he has little choice in the matter,” Freya explained. “Priestess Nimue made that very clear.”

“Nimue? Morgana was arguing with him. It was weird. Morgana came in and agreed with me? Then she said some sort of prayer as I was blacking out. Next thing I know there’s this bright light and I’m here,” he reported. “Nimue hates Gaius. She wants him dead.”

“She restrained herself. He will not reveal your secret anytime soon,” Freya assured him. “Morgana was responsible for our intervention. She called for your deliverance.”

“My…?” He stared at the women. Incredulity disrupted any thought process in his head. “She almost didn’t… She’s not my friend. Still she seemed concerned. I… “

“She stood up for you in front of the other rulers and Arthur,” Mithian recalled. “She was very supportive.” She chuckled. “She was here.”

“Morgana? Here?” He coughed.

“Two days ago. She sat with you overnight before Priestess Ninane returned her to Tintagel,” Freya clarified. “I brought her here myself at her insistence. She asked to know when you woke up. I will give her the good news.” She opened a mist portal. “Meantime, Merlin, you will listen to Princess Mithian. Stay put!”

“I’ll make sure of that. Thank you, Freya,” Mithian expressed.

“It is my pleasure to serve. Certain stubborn Warlocks need constant supervision,” Freya observed before disappearing into the mists.

“Yes. They do.” Mithian kissed his brow. “I am here, Merlin. And you will rest. My Father’s orders.”

“Arthur’s going to kill me,” he replied.

“Father has already sent word to Camelot. He can deal with you being here.” Mithian smirked. “And you’re not moving until I say you move.” She arched her eyebrow. “And you can deal with that.”

He slumped back into the pillow. Duty had met its match at last…..


	23. Arthur Confronts Merlin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Upon his return to Camelot, Merlin is summoned by Arthur. While the King wants to see how Merlin's doing, he also confronts the Servant-Warlock about what's going on in Nemeth. Merlin has to do some fancy explaining. A new state of affairs is set up...

Conclusion [A Week Later]

The next week passed by. At some points, it blurred by in a flash. At others, things seemed to plod through tar. Pain juxtaposed with still more Bliss. Spells burned and pinched accelerating the healing process. Walks, hesitant and around the chamber at first, gradually expanded to the garden and then toward the Grand Hall with Rodor, Mithian and various nobles to share in exquisitely prepared food in the Warlock’s honor. As much as things seemed up and down, time passed.

Still it seemed a dove tailing of sorts….Perhaps it was….

 

****

 

[Camelot—Outside of Arthur’s Study]

Merlin bit his lip. Anxiety’s butterflies battered his insides. His steps seemed slow. Despite the rehabilitation, he labored a bit with his pace. Still, as he’d survived his close call barely a week earlier, he wasn’t going to complain any time soon. Rather his attention lay with Arthur and Gwen at the moment. He leaned against the wall outside of the chamber. _It’s going to be all right. We know it was an emergency. You almost died. King Rodor made sure Arthur knew that._ He shook his head.

Before going there, he’d stopped off in the Physician’s Chamber to find it empty. Given his condition, he expected Gaius to be jumping at the bit to examine him. Even with Nimue’s intervention, he hadn’t anticipated such a response in his mentor.

Interesting all around….

_What’s with Gaius? I know Master Wyngate and Freya did what they could. Still you think he’d want his own diagnosis. This is so unlike him!_ Merlin frowned. Speculation threw several distinct possibilities at him; none of which he really wanted to consider. Frankly he was hoping the older man was all right.

_Perhaps he was helping a patient? Don’t create a situation before there has to be one, Merlin,_ Mithian advised over the Link. _Focus on Arthur, Gwen and the court. After that, you can seek Gaius out._

_He’s always been there before though. I don’t understand why he isn’t here now,_ he questioned.

_And you’ll find out in good time. Straight ahead. One issue at a time,_ she affirmed.

_Yes, Dear,_ he cracked.

_What was that?_ she shot back.

He rolled his eyes. A playful smirk flitted across his face. _Oh nothing._

Her snort echoed through his head. _Well now! It does seem you *can* learn something after all._

_Takes one to know one._ He coughed.

_You think so, do you?_ she supposed; Sauciness played across his ears.

_I could find out._

_Oh you will. Trust me on that._ She allowed a few heartbeats to pass. _I have to remind myself to be patient. You should be too._

_It’s hard. For so long, this was everything and more. Now it seems incomplete. It needs something,_ he assessed. _Maybe someone?_

_It does. Not everyone is there,_ she agreed.

_I know! Maybe Percival or Galahad,_ he teased.

_Them? You think they’d….?_ Then she felt his smirk growing wider. 

_Got you. Do you really think I would be talking about them? I miss you,_ he assured her.

_And I you, my Prince. I love you. Eyes front now,_ she concluded.

Merlin nodded. He looked about the passage. Still he didn’t see anyone coming or going. _Strange._

At that moment, the door opened. Leon stuck his head out. “Merlin, they’re ready.” He motioned into the chamber with his head. He opened the door further.

“Thanks, Leon. I appreciate it,” Merlin expressed.

The First Knight answered with only a tacit nod. He silently led the other man toward the dais.

Merlin looked around the chamber. While it really wasn’t that big overall, it seemed to expand to almost the size of the throne room below. With it empty save for himself, Leon and the two awaiting monarchs, it intimidated him. His footfalls echoed back to his ears. He could almost feel Arthur’s piercing blue eyes burning into his psyche. 

Arthur grimly sat at his desk. He regarded his servant. He sensed a difference in the man before himself. How he wished they could go back to how things had been years earlier. He’d heard such sentiments from Gwen and the knights. He endured the lecture from Rodor’s emissary. Still those reminders of past and present only prompted further questions. There were no warm greetings, barbs, half-meant vows of overwhelming chores or the like. Doubt burned in his eyes. He glanced toward Gwen seeking direction.

She frowned. Convention and Friendship yanked her back and forth like a rope in a tug-of-war. Still she tired of Tension’s rift between them. She took a deep breath and put her best smile on. “Merlin! We’re glad you’re safe. When you disappeared, we had no idea what happened.” She embraced him.

“Oh we know that much. Don’t we, Merlin?” Arthur tapped his fingers across the polished oak desk top. His eyes peering deeply into Merlin’s. “Interesting isn’t it?”

“What is, Sire? Are you all right?” Merlin disengaged from his embrace with the Queen. He looked to her and then back to him again. 

“Oh. I’m fine relatively speaking. It’s been a most curious week to put it mildly. George’s polishing annoys more by the day. I can’t get fresh sheets or anything.” Arthur complained. “If only it was that though.” He resumed the beat of his fingertips across the desk. “Merlin, what’s going on?”

“What do you mean?” Insecurity ate at the Warlock. His voice betrayed a bit of that storm within himself.

“Arthur, please.” She shook her head. For the previous few days, she’d argued with him off and on about this very conversation between them. While she knew the meat of it and hated lying to her beloved King, she wouldn’t see their dear friend and trusted servant go to the pyre because of it either.

“Gwen, the questions need to be asked. I’m sorry. I don’t why I didn’t see this earlier.” Arthur sucked in a troubled breath. “You remember Ealdor?”

Merlin frowned. “I suppose. I grew up there. We’ve been there three or four times. What of it?”

Arthur nodded. In the past, he’d have bought the response and moved on toward the next reply. Still now, Suspicion wormed its way into his thinking. “Strange that magic has its way of finding its way around you.”

“Magic? What?” Merlin scoffed. “Arthur, every time we’ve been there, there’s been a fight of some kind. You really think I’m some sorcerer? That I can just wave my hands and just do things? Well that would be a great thing especially when you keep dumping me in the stables and….”

“Merlin, don’t avoid the question.” Arthur’s eyes burned into his. They reeked of Seriousness and Determination. “You couldn’t be a sorcerer yourself. You’re too stupid and an Idiot for that. How do you know?”

She bowed her head. _Arthur, please. Don’t insult him. That wasn’t called for!_

Merlin burned. He ground his teeth. Still he wouldn’t blow his top. Not now. Not when his Princess counted on him. _Is this what it means to be a diplomat? How does Mithian do this?_ “Dumb luck, I guess. They do watch us.”

“So it would seem. And how do you know that?” Arthur tilted his head to the left ever so slightly. “Isn’t it the least bit curious what happened? You show up in the chamber. An explosion shook the castle. Then something else fixed all of the damage. Then you disappear and show up in Nemeth.” He nodded. “That’s some luck, Merlin. You do realize that my father would be dragging you to a cell right now? He’d call a witch finder. You do remember that.”

Merlin grimaced. He recalled how he’d only been playing with smoke dragons. He’d made sure he was far in the woods. He thought himself secure. Yet he hadn’t accounted for the stray landless peasant who saw him. He’d ridden himself and his friends along that razor’s edge towards safety. “It’s not one of my favorite memories. You don’t forget something like that.”

“Well now it does seem you have some brains after all, Merlin.” Arthur rubbed his chin. “And you would tell me if you knew where they were?”

“They, Sire?” Merlin queried.

“Sorcerers, Merlin.” Arthur peered deeply into his eyes. “Sorcery is evil, Merlin. Maybe it’s Meleagant getting to me. Still, as grating as he is, he is very observant. He had a point.”

Merlin rubbed his side. The mention of the tyrant elicited phantom pain. “I was in the chamber. Gaius started lecturing me. I felt overwhelmed. I saw Queen Morgana rush in. Then there was this bright light. The next thing I knew I was in Whitgate.” He shuddered. “Meleagant is so observant! He knew exactly how to pick fights! And you’re letting him manipulate you like this? Do you realize I nearly died? I’m here because of magic and medicine! Science and sorcery together! That’s at least what the court told me.”

“Rodor tolerates that nonsense more than he should.” Arthur curled his lip. Bile ate at his stomach.

“Arthur, he’s alive because of that. We’re here because of the priestesses. We….” she pressed.

Arthur rolled his eyes. “All manipulations. They want to lure us into trusting them. Then they and that *goddess of theirs* will push us back into darkness and superstition. It’s not going to happen.” He shook his head. “We will hunt down this new coven and deal with them accordingly.”

She somehow kept her composure. Even if he’d let Merlin off, she couldn’t believe Arthur’s blatant threat not even a heartbeat later. Moreover, Disbelief struck her numb at Merlin’s stolid poker face. She marveled at how Merlin didn’t react at least not on the surface. _Is this what it’s been like for him all of these years?_ Pity and Lament weighed on her heart.

“Justice should be done. No, Sire, I don’t know where they are. It’s not like I can just ask where their secret place is,” Merlin supposed half-honestly. “And do we have to? You do know the pain that King Uther’s left in his wake? With respect….” He cleared his throat dispelling the bile there.

Not missing the edge in it, Arthur growled, “Be careful, Merlin.’

“I had dinner three nights ago with one such person, Lady Elaine of Astolat. She’s very pleasant company. She played the harp a few times for the court while I was there. Her mother was like her. She healed people. She never harmed a fly. Pity Meleagant’s insight focused on Nemeth. Uther pushed King Rodor into having burned Elaine’s mother burned at the stake for healing people,” Merlin informed them.

“And here I thought you were my resolute ally against magic. You’re getting soft, Merlin.” Arthur rubbed his chin. “You really should be grateful. I could have told Nemeth to keep you. Given your attitude recently, I considered it.”

“Arthur!” She gasped; her eyes narrowed at him.

Merlin exhaled. Temptation prodded him to say ‘Fine! When do I leave?’ Still he composed himself. “You’re the King. If you want me to stay, I stay. If you want me gone, I don’t have a choice.” He bowed to emphasize the point.

“Trust seems to be an issue where the court’s concerned, Merlin. You’ve raised serious doubts. Even Gaius. Congratulations, Merlin. You’ve even managed to push him away.” Arthur saw Shock in his servant’s eyes. “Oh so that got your attention. Did it? WELL GOOD! WAKE UP, YOU IDIOT!”

Merlin bowed his head. “I went to our chamber. He wasn’t there.”

“He’s looking for a new apprentice. He seems to think you don’t care anymore. I wonder why he would think that?” Arthur shot him a pointed look. 

“I do care! I’ve been doing my best. I….” Merlin argued. 

“Oh I agree. You did prevent a war. You managed to get us all to your home village. So, Merlin, how does your mother like the Princess’ maid. What was her name? Oh yes! Britomart,” Arthur recalled. 

“Mother likes her. Britomart and I are friends. I have lots of friends.” Merlin shrugged.

“Friends don’t take each other on picnics, Merlin. Perhaps that’s why you’ve been spending so much time with Princess Mithian? You want to impress Britomart.” Arthur chuckled. “I should have known.”

_What? Gwen_ stiffened.

Merlin coughed. Incredulity struck him dumbfounded. He had to laugh. He couldn’t help it. “Sire. You got me. I mean…wow. You figured it out.”

Arthur reclined back in his chair. “See? All things do come out in the end, Merlin. Please go on.” Satisfaction pumped his ego up several notches. A grand smirk spread across his face.

“Yes well. I was spending all of that time with Britomart. She wanted my help in figuring out how to best introduce King Rodor to the Princess’ mystery suitor. Well, given everything that’s happened in the past, I did my part of course….” Merlin started in.

Gwen rolled her eyes. Somehow she didn’t face palm herself.

“Of course.” Arthur peered straight at his liege man. “And given what’s happened in the past, you were fulfilling my promise to her. I do appreciate that, Merlin. I’m sure the Princess does as well. So anyhow, do continue.” He motioned with his hand to prod onward.

“So, as I was with Princess Mithian and King Rodor, Britomart and I arranged certain exchanges of gifts between the Princess and her suitor. They actually went on a hunt together. And you know how she enjoys hunting. They had a good day. She proposed to him. He accepted. Rodor approves. Now he has to speak with the man’s liege lord.” Merlin grimaced. “Sticky business.”

“Yes. Not well planned out on that suitor’s part. Was it?” Arthur observed. 

Merlin shrugged. “King Rodor and his liege lord have an oral agreement in place. I was helping to get everything in place. I saw the man in question. He seemed really great but we weren’t introduced.”

“So he does exist?” Arthur coughed. “I thought Princess Mithian was making him up.”

“I actually sat with them in her garden. They’re happy and want to be together. And I guess Britomart met someone in the process.” Merlin sighed. “There’s this knight. She’s fallen for him but won’t admit it. He’s resisting it but likes her too.” He shook his head. 

“Really?” Arthur smirked. “And you’ve been caught up in this melodrama all of this time?” He rolled his eyes. “Merlin, you’re being such a girl. And you know who this knight is?”

“Oh yeah but they want it to be secret. If we expose them, well…you know…sparks would fly and who knows what else? You get what I mean, right?” Merlin supposed. He rolled his eyes, raised his eyebrows and offered another exaggerated shrug to sell that image.

Gwen bit her lip so as not to laugh and blow Merlin’s account sky high. Still she couldn’t believe he was actually turning the tables on Arthur in this way. And to do so in as smooth a fashion as he was doing. _Has he been doing this all of this time? Really?_

“Cat and mouse games do have a way of blowing up in people’s faces. Look at what happened with Gwen and me, Merlin. You think Princess Mithian would know better especially since she was the hurt party in all of that. She should tell her maid to just come out with her feelings. If that knight’s interested, then fine. Otherwise she can move on.” Arthur sniffed. “I mean I heard she stormed into Camelot over Gawain. It’s not like he’d care about a single woman out of the tavern.” Arthur shook his head. 

“Who knows about Gawain? Someday there’ll be someone for him,” Merlin supposed. 

“With all of this, the Princess should come up with someone for you, Merlin. And…” Arthur nodded. “She has, hasn’t she?”

“She has what, Sire?” Merlin asked.

Arthur laughed. “You have a woman. Don’t you? Don’t deny it, Merlin! You met someone in Nemeth!”

“Sire, I…” Merlin nodded. “Yes. We’re kind of figuring things out. I was going to talk with you about it. King Rodor was going to speak with you after Solstice about it.”

“Princess Mithian told me as much. She wouldn’t say who it was. She wanted to leave that to King Rodor. She’s really hoping that Merlin can be with this person,” Gwen continued. She hated misleading Arthur. Still he had promised to help after all…even if he wouldn’t like doing it.

“This misdirection isn’t like King Rodor. Still I can wait. Unfortunately, Merlin, so will you. I’ll need you here. The Solstice feast is even more important now. I’ll need you to get everything in order. You’re so good with arranging things and putting up girly things and all. Just don’t let it get into our other business.” Arthur sighed. Much as the sky might change prior to a storm, his face darkened again. “As happy as I am about this woman, it doesn’t excuse that you hid sorcerers and consorted with them. If it wasn’t for Solstice, I’d speak with King Rodor right now. Still you should return to Gaius’ chambers and pack.”

“I’ll get right on that.” Merlin bowed to him. Regret dampened his spirits. _What did Nimue do to him?_ He made his way out of the study and into the hall. _What’s going to happen now?_ He marveled at the story he’d just fabricated. _What will happen when he speaks to King Rodor?_

_It will be all right, Merlin_ , Mithian assured him. _That was most creative. I am impressed._

_You heard that? I…_ Merlin grimaced. 

_When you said Arthur wanted to talk about what happened, I listened in. I can’t believe him! Can he be any more like Uther? Well let’s not talk of that right now. Just know, I will tell Father about your fabrication. He won’t be happy about the deception. Still it will serve Arthur right and you didn’t really lie…much. Have faith, Merlin. In the end, it will all work out,_ Mithian explained.

_He promised. He has to help us or lose face in everyone’s eyes. I know he hates what I am. Still we should be friends still. I want that! We need that,_ he declared.

_We both want that. Gwen wants that. The question is can Arthur be a friend? Can he accept you? What he said was hurtful. I’m glad Britomart and Lady Elaine weren’t there. Merlin, just be strong. You can do that. I am with you. It’s only a moon and a half until Solstice. Until then, you can meet me in our special place?_ Mithian affirmed.

He saw Gwen walking toward him. _Speaking of Gwen, she wants to talk with me. I love you._

_I love you, Merlin. Thank you for being strong for us. Take care, my Prince,_ Mithian concluded.

_Be strong. You can do this._ Merlin sucked in a deep breath. He noticed Gwen watching him. “I’m sorry I didn’t see you.” He bowed to her.

“That’s quite all right. I imagine you have a lot to think about after what just happened,” she presumed. “Follow me. I’ll show you that room. We can talk in there.” She led him down the passage and a flight of stairs. In the next passage, she pushed the door open to their left. “And here we are. Hope you like it.”

He stepped inside. He could see it wasn’t very big. In the far right corner, a small bed awaited him. A folded blanket and a pillow rested on top of it. On the left side, a candle sat on a table waiting to be lit. Light streamed in through a small window. “Gwen, I appreciate this. I thought he’d have me out in the stables.”

“I don’t care how he sounded in there. Arthur would never do that to you. You know that,” she reminded him. “This will get you through until Solstice. During the festival, I’ll assign you to the Princess once again. After that, we’ll see. This will be here as long as you need it.” She shut the door. “Merlin, about the other matter….” She cleared her throat.

“If Arthur would stop with the double standard, it wouldn’t be necessary. He’s trying to keep the Princess and me apart. I…” He trembled. “I hate being like this!”

“I know. I’ll speak to her at Solstice. That way she’ll know what to tell her father.” She exhaled. “Merlin, you only want equal treatment. You fought for Arthur and me. You’ve earned the same nobility as the knights. Princess Mithian wants to be happy after what happened here. She has helped us. It’s only right.” She looked into his eyes. “Merlin, she’d tell you to have faith. Do that. Meantime focus on really decorating a storm up for the festival. Think of how she’ll like it.”

“She will, Gwen. Thank you,” he expressed. “I can’t believe this. Gaius and now Arthur. Why?”

“I wish I knew, Merlin. I have to be getting back. You need to be getting moved. Arthur needs you outside.” With that, she left.

_Outside. Yeah that…._ Merlin frowned. He eased out of the chamber and down the hall toward the Physician’s Chamber once again.

A moon and a half….. _Luna_ would definitely drag in her pace across Autumn’s eves in that span.

Even so, _Amor_ turned her hourglass. From its full top container, the first few grains of sand fell turning to a small trickle toward its lower counterpart. A small spot began to appear beneath.

Sand would fall. Solstice would work its magic with _Mistletoe’s_ grace along its flow. At the end, the situation would reach its climax.

And the reactions would shape not only Camelot and Nemeth but all of Albion itself……

 

THE END (for now)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well this has been interesting.....
> 
> Next comes that Solstice party mentioned in this chapter. That comes up in "Mistletoe". I'll be posting that in its entirety tomorrow. Events start to come to a boil later this week in the next installment after that, "Rubicon". Take care and have a great day!


End file.
